Seamless
by Claire Darcy
Summary: House is dealing with the return of his sister in his life and all of the changes that go with. And between the arrival of Cuddy's baby and Cameron's surprising secret, House is about to be faced with his very own soap opera drama. [sequal to CRACKS]
1. Saved

"_Greg. Greg, I know you're there. I can practically _see_ you sitting next to the phone…drinking your beer…Dammit, Greg! Pick up the phone! I swear to God … fine. But you can't ignore me forever. Just call me."_

The screeching beep echoed through the apartment, ending Emily's message. House glanced over at the answering machine, now telling him that he had six new messages. He hadn't been _avoiding_ his sister, not really. But since their reunion nearly eight months before, he had assumed the job of older brother; the one never too eager to talk to his sister. Making up for lost time; that's what he told Cameron every time she'd narrow her eyes as Emily's voice recorded, House pretending he couldn't hear a thing, That was the look she was shooting him now, her lips pressed into a thin line. House took a sip of his beer, his eyes straight ahead on the basketball game. Cameron pulled her bare feet up on the couch inspecting her newly painted toes. _Peach Shimmer_. The color House had randomly chosen out of her bag the night before.

"House…"

"Cameron."

Even though they had been secretly – with the exception of Wilson and Cuddy – dating for several months, they still called each other by their last names. It was mostly out of habit, but they also figured that if they got too used to using first names at home, it could possibly slip out around the office. They were careful at the hospital, House sure to annoy Cameron as much as usual, Cameron sure to react just as explosively as ever. Luckily, Wilson and Cuddy were busy figuring out their relationship, and could not be bothered to not-so-subtly hint anything to anyone.

And that was another thing. Wilson and Cuddy. Cuddy and Wilson. It still sounded like nails on a chalkboard to House. Unlike House and Cameron, Wilson and Cuddy didn't have that option of pretending. Cuddy was due in less than a month, and her stomach had expanded to the size of a small boulder. When she first started showing, that was when the rumors started flying, before she and Wilson had said anything. Almost the whole hospital suspected House was the father. The day Wilson came to work with a dozen pink roses (Cuddy's favorite) fully settled the general knowledge that Wilson was Cuddy's guy.

Cameron shook her glass, the ice jumping around in the lemonade. Though House had air conditioning installed in his apartment, the heat was still getting to them. Cameron had been crashing at his place since the beginning of June, unable to bear the stuffiness in her own apartment. She wished that House would just come out and ask her to move in, but she knew that he probably wasn't ready to take that step yet. House took another sip of his beer. Silence roamed through the apartment like it owned the place, save for the sounds of the basketball game on TV.

House glanced over at Cameron, and, seeing the sharp lines etched onto her face, let out a heavy sigh, and scooted down the couch so that their sides were touching. Cameron smiled; it was on the occasion that he would do something as simple yet as intimate as this that she would remember why she loved him. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting him wrap his strong arm around her, pulling her close. His hand sneaked beyond the waistband of her pajama pants, tangling with the straps of her underwear.

"I think I need a shower," Cameron said suddenly. House glanced at the clock on the wall.

"It's almost four-thirty," he informed her.

"So. Never too late to get clean." She pulled his hand from its hiding place, and got to her feet, smirking down at a bewildered House. "It's OK, there is method to my madness," she said coyly, leaning down to kiss him square on the forehead. House leaned his head back and watched her pad down the hallway to his bedroom. A year earlier he never even would have allowed himself to imagine having someone halfas beautiful as Cameron fall in love with him. He still tried not to think too much about it, afraid that this might all just be some wonderful dream.

Barely even twenty minutes later Cameron came back into the living room, her hair still damp from the shower. She had on some short shorts that were almost hidden under one of House's many Rolling Stones shirts. What may have looked ridiculous on anyone else made her look like a supermodel.

"Are those Chase's shorts?" House asked, lifting up the hem of her shirt with his cane. She just rolled her eyes and tugged on the cane.

"Come on, get up. We're going."

"Going? Where?"

"If I told you, that would defeat the purpose of keeping it a surprise," she said playfully. House raised an eyebrow, contemplating her for a moment. Her eyes were bright with excitement, and his defenses weakened. He had wanted nothing more than to spend his day off lounging on the couch with a beer and the woman he loved. And he had almost made it. Letting out a breath he had been holding, House got slowly to his feet, and followed Cameron out his front door.

Cameron led him by the hand down to his bike, quickly snapping his cane into its holder. She swung her leg over, waiting for House to get settled behind her. Ever since he had taught her how to drive the thing after the snow had gone, she only wanted to take the bike anywhere and only if she could drive. He didn't mind; it made her happy, so he was happy.

House got on behind her, the both of them pulling on their helmets. As soon as his arms had slunk around her waist, Cameron started the bike, and took off. You'd never know it from looking at her that she was a speed demon, House had thought. Her first time driving it, his arms had gone stiff from holding her so tight. It was thrilling to ride with her driving, because she didn't feel like she had to protect her passenger.

Cameron drove around for a while, enjoying the feeling of House behind her, his hands sneaking under her shirt, tickling her stomach. She loved the feeling of his hands on her skin, like leather to silk. But eventually she felt she had the need to have something to show for her efforts, and came to a smooth stop beside the pond. It was at the pond that House had taught Cameron how to fish, and where Cameron had taught House to lose gracefully when it came to seeing who could catch the most.

"You don't have any fishing poles," House noted, easing off the bike.

"No I don't…but _they_ do." Cameron's voice had that playful tone about it again and House looked around to see Cuddy and Wilson making their way towards them with fishing poles and Wilson's worn tackle box. Cuddy was draped in a loose floral summer dress, an old woven hat shading her eyes. She held a bowl of sliced watermelon out in front of her swollen belly. As strange as it was for House to admit, Cuddy looked genuinely happy next to Wilson. When she had discovered that she was pregnant, things hadn't looked so good for her and Wilson's future. But it hadn't taken them long to realize that they needed each other. It bothered Cameron that they were going to have an illegitimate child, but House knew that Wilson wasn't ready to go that far yet. Not after three failed marriages. No. It was better to wait now.

"Someone order some fun in the sun?" Wilson called. House raised an eyebrow. This was one change Wilson's thing with Cuddy House did not enjoy; Wilson was constantly cheery. Always walking around with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. It got somewhat sickening after a while. Wilson went over to the shore, gently setting down the gear. Cameron hurried over to Cuddy to take the bowl from her. Cuddy had gotten so huge that any movement she made looked painful.

"Lisa, you look nice," Cameron breathed.

"Thanks…so do you," she returned with a smile. Unconsciously, Cameron smoothed a hand over her stomach.

The four gathered around the bowl of watermelon as Cameron set it on a picnic table. There is something about eating watermelon on a sunny day that just makes you happy. Each sloppy bite dripping with the pink juices, rimming your mouth, dripping down your arm. It's a mess, but delicious. House looked ridiculous, chasing the speedily drops down his forearm with his tongue, while Cuddy went the safe route, cutting bite sized chunks of with a plastic fork. They emptied the bowl with amazing speed, House and Wilson having a contest to see who could spit their seeds the farthest. It was only after Cameron thought she'd join and beat them both, that they decided it was fishing time. Cuddy sat with her back against the trunk of the big oak tree and watched them. Wilson only caught two fish before he decided to give Cuddy some company. The sun was sinking over the horizon, basking them in the twilight.

"Look at that," Cameron whispered, looking over House's shoulder. He turned to see Cuddy lying in Wilson's arms, and both of them appeared to be asleep. House's first instinct was to gag, but as he looked at his friend, he saw how content he was. It almost made him sad; to know that this was one of the few times he had ever seen James look that way.

"We should get going," House said, shaking himself out of his reverie. "It's gonna get dark real soon, and I don't trust you driving in the dark."

"I only hit that trash can _once_," Cameron argued with a smile. House shrugged, in a _whatever you say_ gesture. Chuckling to herself, Cameron went to wake Cuddy and Wilson while House loaded Wilson's car. The day hadn't been such a total waste after. House knew that. He was glad he had Cameron to drag him off on nearly pointless days out. And he was glad to have Cameron to save him from being alone.


	2. Trivial

Cameron cracked an eye open, the alarm clock creating an instant headache. It seemed ungodly to have to be at work before ten on a Monday. She squinted in the bright early morning light, searching for House's form. When they had first started falling asleep together, Cameron got used to waking up to an empty bed. But it didn't bother her; House couldn't stay in bed for too long because of his leg. After a while, he started taking an extra vicodin or two so that he could lay with her in his arms. And this morning was no different. House was still next to her, snoring lightly. If only everyone could see him like this; peaceful and quiet, with no sarcastic self-defense. If only everyone knew how sweet he could be. If only. Cameron rubbed her eyes and quietly scooted herself closer to him, resting her head on his chest. His heart beat against her ear, the steady strong pace pulsing throughout her whole body. A smile slipped onto her face as she felt his left arm wrapping around her.

"Morning," he said groggily.

"Morning."

His fingers stroked her bare shoulder, setting her skin on fire. The hospital was the last place either of them wanted to be, but the alarm clock's insistence had them struggling out of bed to start their day. They got their breakfast of Cocoa Puffs and sat in front of the TV watching their cartoons. Together they were like a couple of kids. Then House would take their bowls back to the dishwasher while Cameron flicked off the TV. Everyday was the same, their ritual as solid as the order of the days of the week. They took their separate rides to work, leaving twenty minutes apart. They were so careful to hide their relationship, that it would seem like someone should have noticed.

"Where's House?" Wilson asked breathlessly, rushing up to Cameron as soon as she was came in the door.

"I'm not sure," she said through clenched teeth. "He'll probably be in soon." Wilson raised an eyebrow, nodded, and hurried off for the elevators. Cameron followed; assuming that he was going to wait in House's office. And she was right, of course. She had been with House long enough to know how his and Wilson's relationship worked. Wilson smiled at her as she stepped in the elevator with him, standing silently side-by-side.

"How long do you think he'll be?" Wilson asked after the doors shut.

"He was showering when I left. So probably about ten minutes," she answered with a smile. The door opened with the ding, and Wilson followed her off the elevator and towards the conference room. Foreman and Chase were sitting at the table, reviewing case files. They glanced up with a welcoming smile for the two as they entered, quickly turning their attentions back to the files. Cameron got herself a cup of coffee and picked up a file, flipping through it.

"Oh my God." Her eyes flicked back over the symptoms she had just read.

"What is it?" Chase asked, looking up from his own file.

"Thirteen year old girl presents with a sudden fever of 103, vomiting, and skin necrosis." Her voice had that incredulous tone as though whoever had recorded the symptoms had exaggerated a little bit. "She had to be put into a coma…because of the pain." She lifted her eyes to glance at the other three doctors to see their reactions.

"Necrosis?" Foreman asked, getting up to look over her shoulder. "Also low blood pressure, increased heart rate, and a rash..."

"Sounds like a visit to the patient is in order," House said from the doorway, leaning on his cane. Smirking at them, he tilted his head, motioning for them to follow. He hobbled down the hall into the patient's room. Anyone who knew House might've been shocked that he was willing about to go check on a patient himself. But for the moment, the doctors following him were too intrigued to ask questions.When the three ducklings and Wilson caught up to him in the room, House was leaning over the girl's unconscious body, checking out her eyes. They were covered with a yellowish crust that had glued her eyelashes together. House picked at one eye until he could pry it open. After a few moments, he glanced up at his team. "Pinkeye."

"You mean to say that all of this; the necrosis, the sepsis, it's all _pinkeye_?" Foreman asked, with an expression that said _I am so not buying your bullshit_.

"No. I am saying that the pinkeye is a symptom. Now, what causes necrosis, sepsis, and pinkeye?" His team stared back at him blankly. His gaze turned on Wilson. "Jimmy?" he asked expectantly. Wilson only shrugged. Sighing exasperatedly, House turned to the mother, who had been silently clutching her daughter's hand. "You wouldn't happen to know if your daughter is on her period...?" he asked her, almost gently. The mother lifted her head to look at him, fear growing in her eyes.

"Oh my God," she croaked. House smiled triumphantly, and turned back to the other doctors.

"Get her started on Clindamycin. And…" he paused, narrowing his eyes. "Cameron, I'm going to give you the job of taking it out."

"Take what out?" Chase asked. Cameron had nodded and moved toward the patient. Apparently, Chase was a little behind.

"Dr. Cameron," House said, turning to her. "Please inform Dr. Chase what this young lady has. Wilson and I have to go. General Hospital starts in three minutes." He winked so that only she could see, and just went back to his office. Wilson rolled his eyes with a smile that again, only Cameron could see, and followed.

"What is it?" Chase asked again, once they'd left.

"It's TSS." Cameron had moved over to the bed and pulled down the blankets.

"That what are you…" His eyes grew. "_Oh_." He blushed, a horrible burning red that went all the way to his ears. "We'll…uh…give you…we'll go." He and Foreman left, much to the relief of Cameron. It was awkward enough having to remove a girl's tampon with the mother sitting right there.

"Is she going to be all right?" the mother asked weakly. Cameron looked up as she pulled out the culprit.

"She should be now. We've caught it fairly early." The mother offered Cameron an extremely grateful smile, tears falling from her eyes. Apparently, words weren't even an option at that moment. Cameron tossed the tampon into the trash and left the room. She wasn't even slightly shocked that House had managed to solve this one in less than an hour. It wasn't the first time he'd done it, and definitely not the last. But there was still that tiny wish that he would just spend a little more time using the team of specialists that he had.

When Cameron went back into the conference room, House had locked himself in his office with Wilson. Wilson was pacing the room, waving his hands in the air while House appeared to be trying to talk some sense into him. Cameron was the only one who would've been able accurately guess what it was they were discussing. Foreman and Chase watched them for a while, sipping on their coffee. If their smirks told her anything, Cameron would've guessed that they assumed it was House and Wilson with the romance problems. Shaking her head slightly, Cameron sat down behind her desk and began to sort House's mail. She'd only picked up the stack of envelopes when Wilson burst loudly from House's office.

"I don't know why I come to you for help!" Wilson shouted over his shoulder. House had limped to the door that connected the two rooms, staring after him.

"Just know that you have two people you'll be hurting!" he called after Wilson's retreating figure. Cameron stared up at House, who just took a casual sip of his coffee. Chase and Foreman opened their mouths to start the questions, but House quickly shut them up with a simple "Don't." His eyes locked momentarily with Cameron's, sending a chill through her whole body. He could do that, with a simple look with his electric eyes.

"Dr. Cameron," he said nonchalantly, turning into his office. "You're needed in the clinic. Urgent doctor business." Cameron smiled. She knew what 'urgent doctor business' was in House's language. Returning the stacks of envelopes to their spot on her desk, she strode from the room, the feeling of those electric eyes on her until she was safe in the elevator.


	3. Dreams

Cameron took a file when she got to the clinic, so that she would be able to snag an exam room. She glanced over the file, and, rolling her eyes, went into exam room two. A squat little man sat on the table, swinging his legs. There was barely enough hair on his head to distinguish an actual color, but Cameron decided that it looked brownish. His legs stilled as he glanced nervously up at Cameron.

"My throat hurts," he croaked at her. Cameron studied the chart again.

"And that's your only symptom?" The man nodded up at her. "Well...I'm willing to put my money on 'sore throat.' How 'bout you?" Cameron scribbled something down on her prescription pad, shocked at how House-like she sounded. "Take this and stop whining." She ripped the page off and handed it to him, again surprised at her inner-House coming out. The man slid off the table, clutching the paper, and waddled from the room. Cameron shut the door behind him and went to sit in the chair against the wall. It didn't take long for the familiar hollow knocking to start. He knocked three times, before he entered on his own. House smiled mischievously as the door clicked shit behind him.

"How long do we have?" Cameron said, already on her feet.

"They're looking for more cases. I'd say about fifteen minutes." He leaned his cane against the counter, but it fell to the floor in his hurry across the room towards her. His hands went straight to her waist, pulling her close against him. Their lips fought for control. Cameron slipped her fingers under his jacket, dragging her fingernails over his sides to his back. Even through the thin fabric of his shirt, she could feel the goose bumps. His mouth moved along her jaw, his tongue dancing over her soft skin.

"You locked the door?" Cameron gasped. House's hand had gotten past the buttons of her pants and was making its way south. House's lack of response unnerved her. "House." He stopped his exploration and glared at her.

"Yes. It's locked. I promise." His voice was edgy, suggesting that she quit ruining the mood and just go with it. Cameron wasn't sure if she believed him, but she soon gave in to his strong hands. She couldn't help remembering the last time he had sworn that the door was locked. Luckily, it was only Wilson who had walked in on them. House pushed her against the wall, becoming more aggressive to make up for her hesitance. His hands moved under her shirt, tickling her skin. Cameron pressed against House, pushing her thigh into his groin. He moaned against her mouth, but stopped, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He glanced around the room frantically before he tugged on her arm, leading her over to the table. "Up," he grunted. Cameron obeyed, using the brief moment of no contact to lift her shirt over her head. She had just moved to do the same to House's faded band t-shirt when a light knocking came from the door. Cameron's eyes shot from the door to House, the fear evident on her face.

"It's locked," House said dismissively. Cameron relaxed as his lips caressed her neck, when out of the corner of her eye she saw the door handle turn.

"I don't think it is," she managed. House turned to see Cuddy staring at them. She got over her shock soon enough, and replaced it with a smirk.

"Oh, seriously. Can't you two keep your hands off each other for ten minutes?" She lifted an eyebrow at them suggestively. Behind her, patients and doctors were peering into the room to get a glimpse of House and Doctor Cameron making out. House wrapped his arms around the shirtless Cameron, protecting her from the nosy people outside the room.

"Cuddy, I have told you a thousand times: I am not into threesomes," House snapped. Cuddy's smile grew wider, as she ran a hand over her stomach.

"Doctor House, you have someone in your office waiting to see you." She winked at Cameron, who had gone bright red, and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. Cameron's embarrassment receded, and the frustration and mild anger set in.

"You're such an idiot!" she said loudly, smacking his arm. House narrowed his eyes, his hand sneaking around behind her to grab her ass.

"You didn't think so a few minutes ago." He leaned in for one more kiss, and then grabbed her shirt from behind her. Dangling it in front of her, he said, "One of these days I'm gonna get all the way with you in here." Straightening his jacket, Cameron moved so that her mouth was right next to his ear, so that he was sure to hear what she said next.

"In your dreams."

* * *

House had left Cameron in the exam room to get herself organized. He sat in the elevator, thinking through all of the possibilities of who could be in his office. His brilliant conclusion was that it was yet another patient who had suffered 'severe mental distress' because of him. Luckily, Cuddy was on his side, managing to get out of those particular situations without any legal problems. But as his office came into view, House knew that Cuddy would not be needed. There, sitting behind his desk tossing his tennis ball in the air, was his younger sister, Emily.

He had figured that eventually she would get sick of the unreturned calls and talk to him face to face. But as he gently opened the door, he was silently scolding himself for not being able to answer the phone when she called. Whatever she had to say would definitely be easier to hear on the phone. Emily set the ball back on his desk and folded her hands in her lap, glaring at him. It was House's glare; the one that had taken him so long to perfect so that it would convey the proper effect. And here was Emily, pulling it off as effortlessly as she would a smile.

"Greg," she said. Her voice was full of frustration and anger as well as admiration in just that one word.

"Hey, Em," House replied. He tapped his cane on the floor, uncomfortable under her gaze. Even though she had formally forgiven him for what he had done in her childhood, House still worried that she would revoke the forgiveness. He was always awkward and quiet around her in the first few minutes of being together, but she'd eventually get him to loosen up.

"Phone broken?" she asked icily.

"No."

"Been away?"

"No."

"Then you better have one hell of an excuse, Greg." House lifted his eyes to meet Emily's; cringing at the look she was holding on him. Plenty of excuses ran through his head, most of them ridiculous. And in the course of their reacquaintance, Emily had learned how to read House. She had gotten almost as good at it as Wilson.

"I…" He racked his brain for anything she might believe. Her eyebrows raised in anticipation for what was sure to be an interesting explanation. "I…uh…I am leading a crazy double-life…?" he tried. As soon as the words had left his lips, he knew he had no chance. Emily's eyes narrowed, the familiar crystal blue eyes unimpressed. "Em…OK. What's wrong?"

"Oh, so now that I'm here, you want to know what's wrong." Her voice shook with threatening tears. All of his usual sarcasm blew out of him like air from a balloon. Something was wrong. He may have been out of her life for over ten years, but he had also learned to read her.

"Em." House moved closer to take her in his arms. She hesitated, afraid to relax under his touch. He waited a few moments for her sobs to subside before asking again. "Em. What's wrong?" She took in a shaky breath.

"It's Mom." House's breath slowed, his heart racing. Their mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after Emily regained her memory. She had been undergoing treatment but with no change. "She's refusing further treatment…She…" Emily sniffed. "She wants to go home and die." House absorbed what it was she was saying, trying to work it through his mind. "She says it's time." House's grip on his sister tightened as he fought against tears. Even after House had learned about his mother's health, he had never gone to see her. His stepfather, Mike, would call every so often, telling him how sick his mother was. Mike had always been good at guilting House, but visiting his mother was not something he would do willingly. He had gotten good at repressing the guilt.

"It's her decision," House choked out. "Emily pushed away from him.

"_What_?" she hissed. "She's killing herself, Greg. Doesn't that bother you?"

"She's really sick, Em." Emily stalked across the room, scooping up her bag from the easy chair.

"Sometimes I just don't get you, Greg." She glared at him before throwing open the door and storming from the room. Cameron stopped at the door, staring after Emily. Cameron closed her eyes, and entered the room. He took so much patience. He was going to drive her insane.

"What did you do now?"


	4. Her Suspicion

Cameron traced her finger along the rim of her coffee mug. She could hear House in the next room, sighing heavily every few seconds. It was really starting to annoy her. Foreman was sitting at the table, trying to concentrate on the book in front of him. Cameron could see his eyes squeezing shut, trying hard to ignore House. He had been sullen every since Emily had left. Cameron had watched Emily shouting at House, her eyes locked on him with the very same angry glint that House often sported. As much as she wanted to know, Cameron knew better than to ask House what had been the subject of their meeting. Cameron peered into her swirling dark coffee, wondering how long it would be until House could be open with her.

"Is House here?" Wilson held the door open with his shoulder, nervously twisting a finger. Cameron glanced pointedly towards the glass wall, where you could clearly see House in the next room, sulking. Wilson followed her gaze. "Oh…right." He nodded and went into the office, startling House. Normally House would have ordered Wilson out, refusing to answer any questions. But Wilson's face was all anxiety, and House knew that Wilson was having his own problems. "You think it's a bad idea." His voice was flat, his eyes empty.

"I do," House answered. Wilson closed his eyes, carefully breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. In. Out. "Wilson…You know it will only turn out badly. Every time it's turned out badly."

"But I've never had…It's a baby, House. A baby needs a whole family," Wilson said softly.

"You'll only risk hurting it later. Your child and Lisa both."

"Lisa thinks we could do it." He said this so quietly that House was sure he had misheard it.

"You've asked her? Already?" Wilson nodded slowly. "So what are you asking me for?"

"You're my friend. I want your advice." He paused, not sure if he should add the next part. "And so does Lisa." House refused to believe this. Cuddy would not base her answer to a marriage proposal on his opinion. It was absurd.

"I don't believe you."

"It's true," Wilson said, smiling a little. House sighed, eyeing his friend. Maybe it was possible that Wilson had found the one he would adore for all time. Maybe it was possible that House was happy for them both. Maybe.

"Congratulations, then." He offered his right hand out to Wilson, who took it.

"Thank you, Greg. From both of us."

Cameron and Foreman watched on from the conference room. Cameron spotted Cuddy leaning against the pillar where she was invisible to anyone in House's office, but where she could still spy on them. Her hands were gripping her stomach, as though it would fall to the floor if she moved her hands.

"She looks like she's going to explode," Foreman commented, eyeing Cuddy.

"Shhhhh…" Cameron was sure she couldn't hear them, but an overemotional Cuddy was reason to be extra careful. "She's still got a few more weeks." Foreman shook his head, returning his attention back to his book. Cameron looked back into the office. Wilson dropped House's hand, and got to his feet. He was smiling, so it was a safe bet that House had told him what he wanted to hear. Cameron was curious, to say the least, and waited until both Cuddy and Wilson disappeared down the hallway, hand in hand, before going into House's office. He was leaning back in his chair, chewing on a pen. He didn't even glance at Cameron as she took the spot where only moments before Wilson had been.

"What was that all about?" she asked as casually as possible.

"Wilson…he…"House removed the pen. "Wilson thinks he wants to _marry_ Cuddy." House said this as though Wilson wanted to drop Cuddy in an icy river rather than commit himself to her for the rest of his life. Cameron wasn't shocked though. In fact, she looked relieved.

"It's about time." House sat up straighter, so that Cameron could better see the glare. "Oh, come on, House. You know as well as me that they needed to do _something_."

"I can't believe you." He said it with a tiny smile, to let her know that he was not completely annoyed for her not seeing the potential disaster. They sat for a moment, smiling at each other, until finally they drifted back into reality. House glanced into the conference room, glad to see that Foreman had left. "Do you want me to cook tonight, or should we order in?"

"Lasagna?" she asked with a coy smile.

"Lasagna it is."

* * *

The next morning Cameron sat on the edge of House's bed, clutching her stomach. Her insides were churning, and she was sure that any second her stomach would be ejecting its contents all over the carpet. She glanced over her shoulder at House, who was snoring softly. Clapping a hand tightly over her mouth, she struggled to her feet and bolted for the bathroom. She closed the door, but House could still hear her retching. He cracked an eye open, trying to focus his eyes on the clock. 6:37. Reaching for his pills, he threw back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Cameron had left the door unlocked, allowing House to go in and sit on the edge of the tub.

"Lasagna not sitting well?" he asked, gathering her hair and holding it behind her head. Cameron groaned against the toilet seat. This was not an attractive state to be in, but she was grateful to have House holding her hair back, and gently rubbing her back. "I'll go get you some water," he said softly, after a few minutes. She spit a few times into the toilet then leaned against the side of the tub. House came back with a tall glass of ice water and a damp washcloth. Cameron took the water and sipped slowly as House pressed the washcloth against her forehead.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she croaked.

"Don't worry about it…Are you OK now?"

"Yeah. I think so." House nodded, and pushed himself back to his feet.

"I'm going to make some breakfast. Do you want something?" Cameron raised an eyebrow at him. "Right. Never mind." He shut the door behind him, leaving Cameron to clean up.

Cameron held the washcloth in her hands, trying to breathe. She recognized the early morning nausea, but refused to let her thoughts run that way. It was just the dinner, just like House had said.

House stood in front of the stove in just his boxers, flipping pancakes. He turned when he heard Cameron shuffle into the kitchen and grinned.

"You'll want to try these," he said, pointing the spatula at a golden brown pancake in the pan. "They're amazing." Cameron smiled, setting her water on the counter.

"Maybe a little one."

"That's more like it." He pulled a plate from the cupboard and slid a vinyl record-sized pancake onto it. "Butter? Syrup?" he asked, turning to her. Cameron nodded, grimacing at the size of the pancake. He dipped a knife into the small tub of butter and spread it over the pancake and then held the bottle of syrup above it and squeezed. "You'll love this." He handed her the plate along with a knife and a fork.

"You're going to kill me," she said, but she took the plate and went to the table. She cut off a tiny piece and hesitantly took the bite. Her eyes closed as she savored the taste.

"Amazing?" House asked, sitting down across from her with his own plate. She rolled her eyes at him.

"It's OK."

"Bull."

"OK fine," she said, smiling. "You're pancakes are so delicious, I am sure that I will never be the same again."

"Much better." He took a bite, chewing slowly. "You should know by now that my ego needs feeding."

Cameron ate a small way into the pancake, until her stomach threatened to fight back again. She groaned and pushed the plate away. She actually prayed that whatever was making her stomach so uneasy was only a onetime thing. She couldn't go for very long without House's breakfasts. But far more pressing was the fear of what it would be if this _weren't_ a onetime thing.

_Not knowing is sometimes the worst thing that can befall a person. _


	5. Cuddy's Decision

**ok i know i don't usually do author's notes before...or at all...but i'd just really like to apologize for how short this chapter is. but i had to get it out tonight before bed. so sorry, and i promise length in the future!**

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"Where's Cameron?"

"She's…sick," House answered distractedly. Foreman lifted an eyebrow, but did not question further. He wasn't exactly sure what was going on between House and Cameron, but ever since House's sister showed up, he had seen the changes. The way House and Cameron would stare at each other, a tiny smile form on each of their lips, or the way House hardly put as much energy into belittling everyone. Foreman was pretty sure he was the only suspicious one.

"Sorry I'm late," Cameron breathed as she came into the room. House glared at her, Foreman glared at him.

"I thought you were staying home sick," House said edgily. He wouldn't say it, but he had been worried about Cameron that morning. And if he got too protective over her, Forman would get ideas.

"Changed my mind." She shrugged it off, as if it was nothing, and unpacked her computer. "Where's Chase?" Foreman and House exchanged a glance.

"He's…got a patient," Foreman said. Cameron looked like she didn't believe him, but decided to let it go. "Actually, I should go help him." Foreman smiled slightly, and left the conference room for the elevators.

"You were an inch from death this morning," House said quietly. "I told you to stay home."

"I'm _fine_," she replied, glaring at him. "Honestly, it was just your lasagna. Really." She sounded slightly defensive, She moved across the room to get herself a cup of coffee. "So where is Chase?"

"He has a patient. Like Foreman said." House took the full cup from her hands. Cameron rolled her eyes and reached for another mug.

"House," she warned, suggesting that he stop screwing with her. House sighed, looking down at his coffee.

"It's Lisa." Cameron froze.

"You were worried that I'd freak out," she said levelly.

"She'll be fine. Just some problems with her blood pressure." He was mumbling now, which was doing nothing to comfort Cameron. House noticed her hands trembling slightly, and he wrapped his arms around her. "I swear to you, they'll both be fine." She nodded, fighting back tears. She felt so safe in his arms, breathing in his scent. He rubbed a hand over her back, resisting the urge to rip her cloths off. It was neither the time nor the place for that.

"House?" The two started, immediately stepping away from each other. "Sorry…I didn't mean to interrupt…" Wilson's face was sunken, with dark circles imprinted under his eyes. "Lisa wants to talk to you." Cameron's fingers enclosed around his wrist tightly.

"Oh. Sure." He turned to Cameron who had become pale. "Come on." He placed his arm possessively around her shoulder and led her from the room, close behind Wilson. He quickly realized what a sight this might have been for any passersby, but he felt that if there was ever a time to take their relationship public, this would be it. Cameron's well-being was more important to him than his sanity. Though it still was an immense relief to him to find the hallway to Cuddy's room was deserted.

Cuddy looked so fragile, lying back in her bed. Her dark hair fell limp around her face. Chase and Foreman stared only a moment too long at the arm draped around Cameron's shoulder.

"What?" House snarled.

"Nothing," they both answered.

"Greg," Cuddy intervened weakly. House turned his attention on his boss. The two male ducklings squeezed past Wilson and left the two couples alone in the room. "I want to have a C-section." The silence buzzed around the room. Wilson was fidgeting by the door. "I'm worried about preeclampsia. The baby is due in less than two weeks anyway. I'd rather…I'd rather…" Her voice cracked, and Wilson took over.

"She'd rather have the surgery than risk getting sick." Cuddy nodded.

"Have you asked your obstetrician?" House asked. He could not figure out why she wanted _his _advice.

"Not yet. I want your OK first."

"Lisa I really think-"

"_Please_, Greg," she begged. "Tell me it's OK. Tell me I'm gonna be OK." House shifted, aware of all three pairs off eyes on him.

"Do what you think you need to do," he sighed.

* * *

Cameron sat on the toilet, lid closed, clutching the flat bit of plastic in her hands. She couldn't believe that this was what it had come to. If House knew…. No. House did not need to know. It was a fluke. A _fluke_. That was all. Never mind the fact that she hadn't had her period yet. She refused to let her mind run away from her.

Her hands shook as the little strips of color boldened against the pasty white.

Oh, shit.

Cameron viciously wrapped the test in layers of toilet paper and dropped it in the trashcan beside House's toilet. She had no idea what she was going to do, but she had to do something.

She just had no idea what.


	6. Toast

**ok. first, i would like to apologize in the delay of getting this up. ok, it was only three days but it felt like a month to me.i was suffering sever writer's block. quite terrible. i'd also like to say sorry if this chapter is a little slow...it WILL pick up (i hope). as always, thanks for the reviews...you guys make my day. enjoy!

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Cameron shut the bathroom door quietly behind her, wiping at her eyes. House did not need to see her like this. Mostly becausehe would want to know why she had been crying. He did not need to know; that was one thing she had already decided for sure. He was leaning back on the couch, carelessly flipping through the channels. That he could be just sitting there while Cameron's whole life got dismantled was enough to make her want to puke. But Cameron was not going to give him reason to worry. Never mind how scared she was that he would leave her if he found out. No, she would hide it until she figured a way out. Until then, she would just have to pretend. She could do that.

"I'm thinking we order a pizza tonight," House said as she sat gingerly beside him.

"Pineapple and green peppers?"

"Can't eat it any other way." His arm slunk around her bare shoulders and pulled her tighter against him.

"Have you talked to Cuddy?" Cameron asked. She hadn't seen Cuddy since that morning and did not know if a decision had been made. House shifted, propping his leg up on the coffee table.

"She's going into surgery tomorrow morning at eight thirty. It was the earliest we could get her in." He sounded apologetic, as if Cameron would blame him for the delay in the birth of Cuddy's baby. "The good news is that with Cuddy being bedridden, she can't hunt me down demanding clinic hours." Cameron caught the grin out of the corner of her eye, but didn't turn her head. House was still uncomfortable about sharing his feelings with her, but they were making progress. She just didn't like to push him.

"Are you ordering pizza or what?" Cameron said a few minutes later. House groaned and pushed himself to his feet.

"Don't be bossy," he grumbled. "That's my job." He hobbled into the kitchen, and Cameron listened as he barked at some poor teenager on the other end not to screw up their order again. He could be so aggressive, but sometimes it was what she liked best about him. It definitely made up for her lack of aggressiveness. "Something to drink?" he called, leaning against the doorway.

"Just some of that ice tea you made," she replied softly. House limped heavily to the fridge and pulled out the large glass pitcher of tea. He poured one glass, thought a moment, and grabbed another glass from the dishwasher and filled it too. Cameron had influenced him in more ways than she knew. Scotch no longer appealed to him as much, neither did his cigars. He had mostly held off at first to avoid the disapproving frowns she'd shoot him when he reached for the scotch bottle or a cigar.

"How's Wilson?" Cameron asked as he handed her a glass.

"He's…" How _was_ Wilson? He had not seen him since their rendezvous in Cuddy's room. House didn't know how he was handling everything. "Actually…I'm not really sure." He sighed at the way Cameron was nervously chewing on her lip, and added, "Let's call him. You know, to make sure he hasn't done anything stupid." Yeah. Because we wouldn't want anyone to think you _cared_, his brain added snidely. Cameron nodded slightly, which was enough of a cue for House to dig his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. Instinctively, he hit the speed dial for Wilson's number, and listened to the hum on the other end.

"Hello?" Wilson answered. His voice was groggy, and House imagined him in an uncomfortable chair next to Cuddy's bed, trying to get in a nap.

"Wilson," House said gruffly.

"Greg." Wilson sounded relieved, which surprised House. It also blew all of the need he had to seem uncaring right out of him.

"How are you, James?" Wilson's eyes filled with tears, and he was suddenly very thankful that House could not see him.

"I'm scared, Greg," he whispered. He glanced at Cuddy, who was snoring softly. "I've never been so scared in my life." House's throat closed up, and it took him several seconds to regain his voice.

"She's going to be fine," House assured him. "Kellin is the best doctor in the state. I promise you that she will be alright." His eyes flicked up to Cameron, her face already taken over by worry.

"I want you here. Before she goes in."

Silence.

"Wilson, I…"

"_Please_ Greg." He sounded not unlike Cuddy in his begging. "Please be here. She'll want your support."

"Since when do you have to use someone else as an excuse for support?" House questioned. He could hear Wilson shifting on the other end.

"Please."

"I'll be there."

* * *

Pizza arrived shortly after House flipped the phone shut, and was devoured in what must have been a record. Cameron had been relieved to know that at least Wilson was still with Cuddy. And House had assured her that it was unlikely for him to be going anywhere any time soon. She found it romantic how protective Wilson was of Cuddy, especially considering their rough start. At the same time, she was happy that House was not the same way. She liked the way they operated as one, and was not expecting any changes.

The next morning, House had propped a small note against the lamp on the bedside table. Cameron squinted at it, trying to make out his scrawling handwriting with her unadjusted eyes.

_I've just gone in to be with Wilson and Cuddy before the surgery. _

_I won't fire you if you're late, just so long as you get some food in you! See you at work,_

_House_

Her eyes just flicked over the last of his words as the brutal waves of nausea flooded over her. She raced into the bathroom, just barely making it in time. Hurling into a toilet would never be something she considered enjoyable, but she admitted that it was much better with House sitting on the edge of the tub behind her, rubbing her back. Her whole body shuddered as she thought about how much more of this she would have to endure. The thought of Cuddy, in the very same position months before, flashed through her mind. Cuddy had been an hour late to work those first few months, but she still had the strong appearance of the Dean of Medicine. At the moment, Cameron felt anything but strong. The soft bath mat beneath her knees seemed awfully inviting, and all she wanted was to curl up and fall into a false sleep. Cameron smiled, telling herself how ridiculous this was. She reached up and flushed the toilet. She stretched upward to get a glimpse of the clock that House kept on the vanity. 8:03. House would be with Cuddy, helping (or at least watching) her get prepped for surgery. In her mind, she could see Wilson clinging to her hand, House hovering nervously by the door. Situations like that were always awkward for him, but she felt a subdued sense of pride knowing he was _willingly_ in that room.

Cameron struggled to her feet, not letting her gaze get anywhere near the mirror. She looked like death. She _felt_ like death. She did not need confirmation. Instead, she shuffled out to the kitchen, popping a few slices of bread into the toaster. Her skin tingled in the warmth of the sun shining through the window. The shirt she wore, the _only _thing she wore, was one of House's favorites. So of course, she always opted for it when he gave her a choice of pajamas. She jumped slightly as the toast shot out of the toaster. She loved toast. There was something about the crunchy, buttery outside and the soft, warm inside that just made her happy. She smiled in spite of herself as she thought about all the reasons to love toast, which somehow slipped right into all the reasons to love House. She did not know how she got from contemplating crunchy bread to the man she was in love with, and she was sure it had some sort of deep psychological meaning.

She showered and dressed quickly after that, suddenly in a rush to see House. She'd become so at home in his apartment, that she was able to breeze in and out of the rooms with ease, always finding exactly what she needed. House hadn't minded that she'd moved most of her clothes into his closet, along with other necessities. At first, he had pretended to be hugely annoyed to find her bras hanging on the bathroom door, but they both knew he was glad to have her. They had occasionally mentioned selling Cameron's place, House's way of unofficially asking her to move in with him.

Cameron was lucky she made it to the hospital alive. House had left her the bike to take to work, which was a rarity in itself. He had never let her drive it on her own before, much like an overprotective parent and a teenager with a new license. The excitement had gone to her head, and she drove a little more carelessly than usual. She earned herself a few suspicious glances from a few loitering doctors as she rode into the parking lot and parked in the handicap spot where House usually parked. Rumors had gone around the hospital already that something was going on between House and his immunologist, but it didn't bother Cameron that she was only adding gas to their fire.

"Are you sure about this?" She could hear the concern in House's voice before she had even seen his face. She stood outside the door, giving the group a few more seconds of privacy. "She wants to see you, too, Dr. Cameron," House called. Blushing, Cameron stepped into the room, attempting to smile. The sight of Cuddy completely killed the leftover thrill of riding the bike, and left a horrible weight in her stomach.

"I'm sure, Greg," she rasped in reply. Wilson was seated just where Cameron had earlier imagined him; perched on a stiff leather chair beside the bed, clutching her hand for dear life.

"House!" Wilson snapped, momentarily moving his eyes from Cuddy. "That is the seventeenth time you've asked that! Make yourself useful and go find Kellin." Cameron was taken aback by the force behind Wilson's voice, but House just rolled his eyes at her with a tiny smirk, and she relaxed. He moved past her, lightly brushing her as passed. He stopped at the door, and turned to face Cuddy again, his brows pushed tightly together.

"You're quite sure?"

"House!" both Cuddy and Wilson warned.

"Right. Just checking." Winking so that only Cameron could see, he hobbled down the hall in completely the wrong direction.


	7. Secrets

_OK, so I finally got to writing this weekend and have come up with this. I'm not really happy with the ending, so if anyone has any suggestions, I'm up for them! Enjoy!_

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Twenty minutes later and House had returned, followed by a smiling doctor Cameron recognized as Dr. Marie Kellin. She had her bright red hair pulled back in a high ponytail, and her green eyes were shining with anticipation. She glanced over at Wilson, who was leaning with his forehead pressed against the window.

"We're ready for you now, Lisa," she said kindly, moving towards Cuddy. Kellin was treating her like a patient, rather than her boss. "Doctor House, Doctor Cameron," she breathed, turning to face them. "Thank you for keeping an eye on her, but we've got it under control now." Several snide comments immediatelypopped into House's mind at being treated with such condescension, but luckily Cameron spoke before hewas able to getthem out.

"Good luck, Lisa," Cameron said gently, striding to the side of the bed. "Your baby is going to be beautiful." Cuddy smiled gratefully up at her, but did not seem to have the strength for words.

"Thank you, Greg," Wilson mumbled, placing a hand lightly on his friend's arm. "And Allison," he nodded at her, "thank you for being here too." He let out a heavy sigh, and moved to Cuddy's side. Brushing the hair away from her face, he whispered, "Let'sgo meetour child."

House and Cameron took this as their cue to leave, not wanting to intrude on the couple's private moment. House went back to his office, where the blinds had been drawn, and Cameron followed,taking a spotagainst the wall. A comfortable silence settled between them, save for the almost calming sound of House's cane bouncing against the floor. At first, Cameron had learned to tolerate his nervous tapping and twirling of the cane, but now she was finding that they soothed her.

"She's going to be OK," House said, breaking the silence. He had said it to comfort Cameron, who looked rigid where she stood. She glanced over at him, and her heart melted at the concern in his face.

"I know she is."

A faint smile made an appearance on his face for just a second as he reached for the tennis ball. Cameron stayed in his office for another minute or two, before the quiet between them made her nervous. She went to her desk and worked on sorting the mail, and moved on to charting. House hadn't lightened up on having her do the charting since they got together. She hadn't expected him to though; _he_ certainly wasn't going to do it, and she didn't see him convincing Foreman or Chase to do it for him.

At quarter to ten, a scrub-clad Dr. Kellin came by the conference room to inform Cameron that the surgery had gone well, and that Dr. Cuddy and Dr. Wilson were now the proud parents of a beautiful baby girl. Tears immediately sprang to Cameron's eyes, but she tried to hold them back as she thanked Kellin and poked her head into House's office. His first thought at the sight of her face was that something had gone horribly wrong, but then her lips fell into a greatly relieved smile.

"It's a girl," she said simply. House almost smiled back at her, but his mind was telling him to revert to his uncaring ways. He pushed himself to his feet, and took Cameron by the hand down to Cuddy's room. It had felt like a four-mile trek for the both of them, being unsure of what they would find. But even as the elevator door opened up on the maternity ward, they could hear Wilson's joy filled voice floating down the hallway.

Cuddy was propped up in bed, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. Wilson had abandoned the chair and was stretched out on the bed next to her, a big grin plastered onto his face. House and Cameron inched into the room, taking in the scene of the happy family. But with the cane, it was impossible for House to be silent. Wilson and Cuddy looked up, startled.

"You aren't going to see her from there," Cuddy said with a stronger voice. Cameron moved first, eager to get a glimpse of the child, while House hung back. The baby's head was covered with her mother's thick black hair, as well as her pale skin. Her eyes were closed, but Wilson assured them that she had his eyes.

"Oh, Lisa," Cameron breathed. "She's perfect."

"Would you like to hold her?"

It was an innocent enough question, but Cameron hesitated. She hadn't held a baby since her own, and it had been so long. There was an innate fear deep in her stomach that she would not know how to hold the tiny girl correctly. The three sets of eyes she felt locked on her had Cameron gently taking the child from Cuddy's arms. She took a few steps back until she could ease herself into the chair. House looked on, a sense of pride washing over him. She looked so perfect, holding this child, as if it belonged in her arms. It almost made him want one of his own, so that he could watch her being a mother.

"What's her name?" Cameron asked as she trailed a finger over a button nose and then the plump cheeks.

"Rebecca," the parents answered in unison.

* * *

House was just zipping up his jeans and leaning over to flush the toilet when something in the trashcan caught his eye. It was sticking out of a messy wrapping of toilet paper, looking as though whoever had put it there had just wanted to forget about it. Being as curious as he was, House leaned down and plucked the little bundle out of the trashcan. His heart was pounding as the toilet paper fell away, revealing a flat white stick of plastic, a conspicuous pink line in the viewing circle. House staggered backwards, almost falling into the tub in his attempt to sit. He _knew_ what this foreign thing was, and he knew what it meant. 

Cameron was pregnant. He could live with that. He had actually been entertaining ideas of having his own baby. If Wilson could do it, he was sure he could. But Cameron hadn't mentioned anything about it yet, and he was not going to bring it up until she was ready.


	8. Help

_Alright all you amazing people who actually want to read this: I finally got this up (huzzah!). And I'm getting excited because I've kinda got a plan of where I'm going with this. Anyway, I'm planning on lots of writing time over the long weekend, so watch for updates!

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She had seen no other way.

Her early morning 'puke-fests,' as House had so fondly come to name them, were steadily becoming more aggressive with each day, and she suspected that House was having a hard time being sympathetic when she woke him up. Of course, she had no way to know that House was even more sympathetic now that he knew the cause for her being forced out of bed every morning around six. But Cameron was getting paranoid, and finally admitted to herself that she needed help. The only problem was that she wasn't sure whom to tell. The few friends that she'd managed to make in Princeton were either guys, or were too busy with their own lives to want to helpher deal with her problems. Which was why Cameron found herself spilling her soul to Lisa Cuddy.

The shock at finding Cameron on her doorstep one morning was evident enough on Cuddy's face. She had been discharged from the hospital a few weeks before, and was slowly adjusting to not being able to go to work every day. Cameron knew that Wilson had gone to work already, and House had been giving her an hour's lenience lately so that she could get cleaned up for work. Cameron just had to hope that Cuddy could tell her what to do in under an hour.

Cuddy's reaction to the news genuinely surprised Cameron. She had expected to receive bitter shock, or at least speechlessness, but she was not expecting Cuddy to be completely understanding. Cuddy urged her to keep the baby, and told her that if House wasn't willing to help her with it, he wasn't worth staying with. This was not what Cameron wanted to hear. Though the tiny person growing inside of her was half his fault, Cameron could understand if raising a child wasn't very appealing to him. Still, the idea of leaving him made her stomach churn with something that definitely wasn't morning sickness.

"I guess what really matters is if you think you want a child," Cuddy had said as Cameron opened the door to the warm sunshine only forty minutes later. Cuddy's words had stuck with her for the rest of the day, replaying over and over inside her head. House had of course noticed something was wrong with her, but didn't say anything. It had been nearly two weeks since he discovered her secret, and he was starting to wonder if she would ever bring it up. He had been imagining himself as a father, entertaining ideas of a little House or Cameron to chase around. He hoped that Cameron didn't think that he wasn't interested in children. In the hope of persuading her to tell him herself about the baby, he would hold Rebecca during their visits with Wilson and Cuddy for as long as possible before she would decide that it was time to spit up all over him.

The night after Cameron's sit-down with Cuddy, Cameron was alone in House's apartment watching TiVo'd episodes of The OC. House had gone out with Wilson for the night, much to Cameron's relief; she was in need of some alone time to deal with the new emotions that had been brewing inside of her. She was halfway through the second episode when the phone rang. Without thinking, she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Allison?" Oh hell. It was Emily.

"Oh. Hi, Em," Cameron said, trying to sound cheerful. "Greg's not here. If you-"

"Actually, I was hoping to talk to you." She sounded nervous; like she was mentioning something she wasn't really supposed to be talking about. "Did Greg tell you what it was we were talking about that day I came to the hospital?" Cameron thought a few weeks back to the last time she had seen Emily, then grimaced as she tried to forget the earlier events of that day.

"I don't think he did. Em, is everything all right?" Cameron remembered seeing Emily storming from House's office. That, paired with the fact that House had gotten especially sulky after she'd left should have alerted Cameron that there was something wrong.

"It's mom." Emily's voice gave way to tears, but she continued anyway. "She decided to stop treatment about a month ago, and she's not doing so well. The doctor doesn't think she'll see the end of summer." Cameron heard a rustling followed by muffled sobs. She waited patiently until Emily brought the phone back to her ear. "She really wants to see Greg, before…before it's too late, but she can't travel…" Suddenly, Cameron saw where Emily was going with this.

"You want Greg to fly out there to see you?" she asked slowly.

"I know. It's ridiculous. But if you could just convince him…"

"Contrary to popular belief, I do not have control over him." A shaky laugh came from Emily's end of the line.

"I know you don't, Allison. But could you…could you please try?"

"I'll try, Cameron promised. They made a few minutes' worth of small talk before Cameron made an excuse to hand up. Talking with House's sister was always awkward. Cameron couldn't exactly say why, but it was the same every time she accidentally picked up the phone.

After the call, The OC didn't appeal to her so much anymore, so Cameron got up to go run a bath. The water rhythmically flowed into the tub as she stripped out of her sweats. The clock on the vanity showed 9:47. House wouldn't be home for four more hours at least. The occasions where he and Wilson would go out for a drink were so far and few that it usually morphed from 'just one drink, I swear,' into just one drink at seven different bars. But it didn't really bother her when House would turn up drunk. He would crawl into bed and pull her close to him and whisper sweet nothings in her ear; albeit nothings that he had no recollection of the next morning. But when he was drunk, he didn't worry nearly so much about what he was saying. These were the times Cameron took the chance to get him to open up about his emotions.

Cameron slowed the water and stepped into the tub, easing herself down so that her entire body up to her neck was submerged. Her fingers played idly with the quickly disappearing cushions of white bubbles as she remembered the very first bath she and house had shared. It had been awkward, at first, as they tried to move so that House wasn't in too much pain. But after that particular obstacle had been defeated, they'd managed to relax in the water, holding each other and talking until the goose bumps were too hard to ignore. House had gotten very close to saying the 'L' word that night.

She was just about to open the drain when she heard the front door being opened and then slammed shut, followed by the sound of a rubber-tipped cane hitting the floor harshly. The footsteps got louder and she saw House's bedroom light flick on. She imagined that his crystal blue eyes were flicking over theempty bed.Afraid that he wouldn't think to check the bathroom, Cameron made a little extra splashing when she reached to the end of the tub for a washcloth. Luckily, House leaned forward so that he could get a good look into the bathroom. Upon seeing her, he visibly relaxed, and came in to sit on the toilet lid.

"Emily called," Cameron said casually, slowly running the washcloth over her stomach. She was slightly rounder, but not enough to raise questions.

"Do we have to talk about my sister right now?" he asked in a strained voice. "What with you being naked and all, this could potentially damage any hope of me talking to her again." Cameron smiled as she dragged the washcloth up to her breasts, massaging each one gently. From the corner of her eye, Cameron could see House lifting himself off the toilet and easing onto the floor. A grimace of pain came and went, but he popped two vicodin and waited for them to kick in. Then, he turned to Cameron and said, "Gimme that," pointing to the washcloth. Smirking, she handed it over, and slid down in the water so that she was in his reach. Her eyes slipped closed as House circled his hand over her tummy, using the washcloth to scrub at invisible spots. His hand traveled to her hip, gently pressing his fingertips into her flesh. She was squirming under his touch, which was only a cue for him to continue.

House smiled slightly, and he ran his hand down her side, gliding over the soft skin inside her thighs. Looking up, he could see that Cameron had her lower lip clamped between her teeth. Ditching the washcloth, House traced his fingers over her skin, bringing them up to the sensitive spot between her legs. Cameron arched her back against his hand, moaning softly. He started to slip one finger inside her, when suddenly, sex didn't seem nearly so fun. He glanced at her stomach, envisioning the baby growing just on the other side. House withdrew his hand and rested it on the edge of the tub. Realizing his hands had disappeared, Cameron looked up, taking in the distressed look on House's face.

"I need to get something to eat," he lied, using his cane to pull himself up to his feet. " I'll just…" His voice trailed off, and he limped from the room, softly shutting the door behind him. Cameron stared at the spot on the floor where he'd just been sitting, trying to figure out what had just happened.


	9. Protection

_So--This chapter is pretty much just a jumble of things. And I'm not so sure I like it. So could you just let me know what you think? I am definately sure that I know where this is going now. And I'm sure a lot of you will be surprised. But it must be done. Anyway, my point is that this sequel is going to be fairly long...I hope. OK, I'm rambling, Just read the chapter and tell me what you think? Thanks much.

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House sat on the couch, his elbows propped up on his knees and his chin resting in his hands. He could hear water running in the bathroom, suggesting that Cameron was now washing her hair. A part of his brain, a rather large part, was screaming at himself to get back in there with her. But something about the pregnancy freaked him out. He'd never been a father-to-be before, and he felt the over-protectiveness that went with fatherhood already setting in. Cameron would figure that he was losing interest in her, but he wanted to be gentle. No risk-taking.At least notuntil they were able to talk about it together.

Thehesitant knocking coming from his front door was all too familiar. So many times he had heard it, and it had always been followed by crazy apology sex. This time, he was proud to say, he'd be able to resist. House pushed himself to his feet and limped without his cane to the door. He mentally congratulated himself on being right when he opened the door to reveal Stacy Warner. Her hair had fallen out of the clip at the back of her head, messily framing her tear-streaked face. Housemoved backso that she could step inside. It was amazing how quickly she made herself at home, kicking her shoes off and settling down on the couch.

"Can I…" House started, waving his hands vaguely in front of him.

"Mark's gone." Stacy said softly. Her back was to him, but he knew she was crying,

"How'd he manage that?"

There was a definite intake of breath, as though he had drenched her in ice water. The sarcasm had been a mistake.

"Hekilled himself, Greg." Her words were icy and weak at the same time; trying to show House that he'd been wrong in trying to tease her, while also telling him how upset she was. "An OD of his pain meds. He didn't even…even leave a note or anything. I just found him, slumped over in his wheelchair when I got home from work." There were no tears behind her words now, only unrestrained shock. Stacy opened her mouth to say something else, but snapped it shut when the sound of the bathtub draining could be heard through the walls. She turned in her seat to look at House, her eyes narrowed into a menacing glare.

"You have company?" The way the question fell so easily out of her mouth suggested that she knew that wasn't the case. House shook his head, almost cringing when he heard Cameron's voice floating down the hallway.

"House, where's the black shirt?"

"I hung it up on the hook in the bathroom," he answered, ignoring the incensed look taking over Stacy's face. "Didn't you see it?"

"Oh, I see it," she hollered back. "What the hell is that?" There was a pause before she continued. "Oh, jeez, House. You couldn't wash it after last night?" The humor so obviously coating her voice did nothing to soften the agitated look on Stacy's face.

"I came here, expecting some comfort, Greg. My husband is _dead_. I didn't come here to play second fiddle to some whore." The anger was so sudden and so violent that he would not have blamed himself if he'd hurt her. But he stepped back, opening the door.

"Get out."

"What?"

"Out." He was shaking despite his desperate attempts to control himself. "Don't you _ever _call Allison Cameron a whore. Ever."

"Allison? You mean to tell me that Dr. Allison Cameron, Fairy Princess of Princeton Plainsboro is your new fuck buddy?" she asked, a wicked smirk playing across her lips. "What a surprise."

"Now, Stacy. Before I can no longer be held responsible for my actions."

Stacy sighed, sliding back into her shoes. Her husband was gone, and the only other man that she could see herself with for eternity had moved on. Something she'd always thought him incapable of doing.

* * *

Cameron stopped in her tracks when she heard a woman's voice mingling with House's in the living room. She held onto the doorframe, trying to control her breathing. She knew that voice. And it had always meant trouble. There was pure vehemence in House's voice.

"_Don't you ever call Allison Cameron a whore. Ever."_

Stacy had called her a whore? She silently promised herself that House would be getting a reward for sticking up for her later.

"_What a surprise." _

Cameron was sure that they were discussing her and House's relationship, and didn't want to be around to hear anymore. Apparently, Stacy could be a bitch when she wanted to. She stepped back into House's bedroom and clicked the door shut without a sound.

* * *

When news of Mark Warner's suicide got around the hospital, there were staff-wide betting pools going on how long it would take House and Stacy to get back together. Of course, there were four people who knew that this would never happen, and two others who, if they had to make some educated guesses, would say that it was unlikely that House would be back in Stacy's arms anytime soon. But the rest of the hospital was surprised when Stacy quit her position, and moved across the country to Washington. House hadn't even noticed. He had impending fatherhood to deal with. Which, in turn, meant that Wilson was going to deal with it with him.

Wilson was sitting at the bar, spinning the mini umbrella between his thumb and finger. House had promised he would meet him there by six, and a quick glance at his watch confirmed that it was nearing seven. He was on his third drink of the night. He had just reached for his coat when a burst of warm air blew through the doors, accompanied by an annoyingly familiar thumping.

"Scotch on the rocks," House snapped at the bartender as he eased himself onto the barstool next to his friend. "You look trashed," he commented, looking Wilson over.

"And you are late," Wilson pointed out, slurring slightly. "So what's the big emergency? You said that if I didn't get here immediately you might do something drastic." He screwed up his face in thought. "But you were late. I'm confused. Is it an emergency or not?"

"Don't think too much," House said, clapping Wilson on the shoulder. "I don't want you to hurt yourself." He sighed as his drink was slid in front of him. He took an eager drink before he started what was sure to be a long and difficult conversation. "It's an emergency." Wilson looked at him expectantly. "I think Cameron's pregnant."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." He took another drink. "But she won't tell me." Wilson looked up, brow furrowed.

"Then how do you-"

"It doesn't matter how. What matters is what I'm going to do. To get her to tell me."

"Why don't you just tell her that you know?" Wilson suggested. House looked at him, rolling his eyes.

"Look," he said, sliding of the stool. He picked up his glass, draining it of the last few drops of the amber liquid. "You're obviously too drunk to be of any help for me tonight. Call me when you've gotten some coffee in you." He turned to leave, slightly embarrassed at what he'd confided in Wilson.

"House," called Wilson softly. House stopped, looking at him over his shoulder. "You're going to be a daddy. I think I'm going to cry." His face gave way to a big drunken smile, and House felt the corners of his own mouth turn upwards.

"It's a frightening thought."


	10. An Invitation

_I'm so glad you guys like the last chapter. At least, those of you who reviewed did. I'm rather proud of this one; some of my own lines make me giggle – which is ridiculous, but still. Anyway, I'd love to hear from you all! Thanks for sticking with me through all this. Have fun!

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Wilson had never done anything that his best friend was apprehensive of. Though he would never admit it, he was very dependent on House's good opinion. He cared about what House thought, and made most of his decisions based on House's input. Because, even though he was not well known for being supportive and self-sacrificing, House really did care about what Wilson did with his life. The many scolding talks he'd had every time one of Wilson's marriages went down the toilet were solid testimony for that. So naturally, Wilson was slightly shaken when House had not met his idea of marriage with immediate congratulations. And now, as he sat in his friend's empty office, waiting for him to show up, he was seriously considering bolting. He could convince himself that he didn't need House's OK. He didn't even need House to be there. Yes. Maybe if he told himself that enough, it could come true. Unfortunately, just as he'd worked up the courage to leave the office, House came storming in, angrily throwing his cane to the floor.

"…House…"he said tentatively. House looked up, shocked to see Wilson sitting in his easy chair.

"Hi," he grumbled, stalking as best he could behind his desk, falling back into his chair. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"What's wrong with you?" House glared at him, but rubbed a tired hand over his face.

"Cameron just informed me that my presence at my mother's deathbed has been requested. Immediately." Wilson opened his mouth, but House cut him off. "I am _not_ going. I don't care what you say."

"I know there's no convincing you, but-"

"Then why must you try?"

"_Greg_." Wilson's voice was stern, and the use of his first name told him to shut up. "Your mother is very sick. If I thought you'd appreciate it, I'd sugarcoat it, but she's not going to pull through this. This could be your last chance."

"I know," House said quietly. "I'm not ready to see my mother, or Mike."

"You do realize that by the time you are, it will be too late." House nodded slowly. "I just don't want you moping around for weeks when she does…you know…"

"Die? Jesus, Wilson. It's not a fucking swearword." He crossed his arms, and scowled into the middle distance. Then, as a thought hit him, he glanced up, fixing Wilson his a glare. "Why were you in my office?"

"No reason," Wilson replied hastily. House was not in the best of moods, and he'd started to rethink his request.

"Bull. You were waiting. You have something to say. So spill." Wilson kept his mouth resolutely shut, but between the softening of House's features and the mounting tension in his own mind, he finally let the words pour out of his mouth.

"There's going to be a wedding this weekend. I think you should go."

"Ha," House scoffed. "Do I really have to tell you: I don't do weddings."

"But it's not every day your best friend gets married." He's said the words quietly, hoping that maybe house would mishear them. House's eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed several times before any sound came out.

"So you really are getting…?" He waved his hands vaguely around in front of him.

"Married? Jesus, House. It's not a fucking swearword," he said with a smirk, perfectly mimicking his friend's words. "Yeah. I am. Nothing big. We actually just want you and Cameron to go down with us to the courthouse. Next Saturday." He was rambling, and he knew it, but the look House had trained on him was making him nervous. "Can you…say something?" he asked finally. House gritted his teeth, steepling his fingers in front of his face.

"What time?"

"What?"

"I said 'what time?'" he repeated agitatedly. "Generally good information to give the guests of your wedding."

"Right," Wilson said unsurely. "We'll start at around eleven thirty…if that'll work…for you." He was so shocked at House's reaction, that he was having trouble putting his thoughts together.

"Should be fine." House was sounding less annoyed, and he could even feel himself becoming somewhat happy for his friend and his boss. Though it still didn't seem right to him. On so many different levels. "Cameron is going to be so glad you guys are you doing this. She won't shut up about it until long after it's over, I'll bet." He rolled his eyes, but followed it with a slight smile. Wilson opened his mouth to ask about the Pregnant Cameron deal, but was interrupted by the shrill beeping of House's pager. House threw his head back in frustration as he unclipped it from his belt, and glared at the little screen.

"Huh," he said, an almost undistinguishable smile finding its way onto his lips. "I have to take this." Wilson watched him leave, shaking his head at his friend's behavior. There was only one person who could possibly capture his attention like that, and Wilson made a mental note to stay away from the clinic for an hour or so.

* * *

House stepped into the clinic minutes later and limped quickly towards the door of exam room three. He rapped his cane on the metal door in quick succession, attempting to appear as though it was merely a particularly bad runny nose that had called him down to the clinic. So naturally, he tried his best to hide the grin when Cameron opened the door, and ushered him inside. She made a point of pushing him away when she had the door closed so that she could lock it. As she turned to give him a pointed look, House ran his cane up and down the length of her lean leg, sneaking it under her skirt.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked huskily, watching as her eyes slipped closed.

"I don't know; I could pinch you."

"Now, now, Dr. Cameron," he said with a smile. Dropping his cane, he stepped closer to her, wrapping his long arms around her. "Violence is not the answer."

Cameron leaned into him, pushing his button-up shirt off his shoulders. "No, but sometimes it's the key to fun." She ran her tongue over his neck, biting gently on the stubbled skin. His groan vibrated against her cheek, and suddenly she found herself being lifted onto the examination table. House ran a rough hand over her shoulder, dragging it down over her breasts, stopping when he got to her thighs. His fingers expertly kneaded the delicate flesh, making Cameron moan softly. Usually when they made love, it was slow and gentle, both of them taking time to adore each other, savoring every touch, every sensation. But this time, this time was different. It was rushed and greedy, the two of them working together to satisfy the other's needs. House's leg protested, and, when he lay on top of Cameron, her chest pressed into his, both of them breathing heavily, he reached around into his pocket to find the little vial of pills. Cameron was smiling sleepily up at him as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"I told you it would happen some day," he said with a smirk.

"I never doubted you."

House lifted himself off her, reaching for his clothes. He thought about asking Cameron about her thoughts on the wedding, but decided that it had to wait. He wanted to be able to drown out her rapturous joy with The OC. He would wait until they got home to tell her. Now if he could only make it through the rest of the day without killing their patient or scaring one of the nurses into quitting, it would be the perfect day.


	11. Gettin' Hitched

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Theoretically, my chapters should be getting a bit longer, just so I can get this all out without going over 50 chapters. : I hope you all like this one, and thanks so much for your reviews! They keep me going.

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The inconsistent drone of the television was doing nothing to distract House. He knew that he would have to tell Cameron about their pending weekend plans soon, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The fact was that he himself wasn't so sure how he felt about it yet. He had known that Wilson was planning on marrying Cuddy, now that they had their daughter, but knowing Wilson and furthermore, knowing how Wilson's past marriages had turned out, he was finding that he was a bit uneasy about the whole thing. Cuddy had come to him earlier in their relationship, confiding in _him_ her worries about the dangers a marriage to Wilson could hold. He had at first been surprised merely by the fact that Cuddy was going to him for help rather than Cameron, but it also dawned on him how strange it was that she was thinking about marriage at all. That was before Wilson had asked him for his best wishes, before everything had changed so dramatically.

Cameron came out from the bathroom, toweling her wet hair. She knew that there was something he wanted to talk to her about, but she assumed that it was about the news about his mother she had not-so-gently given to him that morning. Tossing the damp towel in a heap on the floor, Cameron lowered herself into the armchair.

"OK," she said slowly. "What is it?" House looked up at her, confused. "What do you need to tell me?" House paused a moment, ordering the words just right in his head. They had to be elusive enough that she wouldn't be shocked into giving birth. House stopped as that thought ran through his mind; there were so many jokes that wouldn't be funny anymore.

"They're getting married." Oh yes. That was subtle.

Cameron's eyes widened and her jaw dropped, and it was several moments before she could speak. House imagined that this was exactly what he looked like when Wilson had told him.

"_What_?" she asked incredulously.

"What part of it don't you understand?" he snapped tetchily.

"No. It's just…wow. I really didn't think they'd get around to doing that."

"Well…we should go shopping. I'm sure you'll want a pretty dress…" House took a sip of his beer. He hadn't been to a truly formal occasion – even a semi-formal one – for so long, and he was beginning to see why; he didn't really like all the planning.

"No it's all right," Cameron said easily, pulling her feet up on the chair. "I'm sure I can find something to wear. "

And that was that. House was surprised at how easy it been, but didn't dwell on it. He didn't want to think too much about what had driven Cameron to be so supportive of the Wilson-Cuddy marriage. He didn't want to think that she was soon going to be applying the very same beliefs to their ownsituation. He just didn't want to think that far ahead yet.

"I've been thinking," House said suddenly, gripping the handle of his cane tightly. "About what you said?" Cameron held herself perfectly still. House had willingly brought himself to talk about their conversation that morning, and she was convinced that any movement on her part would scare him into not talking. "I'm taking next week off. To go see her." He stopped, chewing on his bottom lip. "I want you to go with me." Cameron's initial reaction was surprise; surprise that House would want to bring her along on a trip that would potentially leave him fragile. But she quickly feigned nonchalance, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"I can do that," she said calmly. House nodded his head curtly, acknowledging that it was a done deal. They quickly slipped back into their usual routine of sitting around watching T.V., occasionally griping about how bad this plotline was, or how unrealistic those breasts looked. It was a typical evening, which House was thankful for. Things had been changing too quickly lately. He needed some routine.

Saturday morning started out the same as any other: Cameron was out of bed before seven, hurling into the toilet, and House was right behind her, holding her hair out of the way. She was thankful for that, but it didn't quite quell the strong guilt that she had for waking him up. Then, as House sat behind her on the edge of the tub with Cameron sitting on the floor between his knees, massaging her shoulders, they both remembered what their plans for the day were.

"Shit," House whispered. Cameron's head lolled back into his lap, so that she could clearly see the expression on his face.

"It won't be that bad," she said gently.

"Yeah. That's what you said about the benefit last October." Cameron winced, remembering the events of that dinner so many months before "And we all know how _that _turned out."

"I said I was sorry," she said softly. House glanced down, shocked by the sadness in her tone.

"I don't blame you, you know." He really didn't. How was Cameron supposed to know that Emily was going to show up that night? He combed his fingers through her soft hair, wishing that she would laugh and just brush it off.

"Maybe," she whispered. House's heart fell; _she_ blamed herself. How long had she been feeling this way? House hooked his fingers under her arms and lifted her to her knees. Turning her around so the he could look her in the eyes, he asked,

"Is there something you need to tell me?"

She almost did it. She almost told him all about the baby, about how she was so afraid that he would leave her. But Cameron knew better than that. She still wasn't ready to say anything about it yet.

He seriously thought that she would say something. That's why he had asked, anyway. That maybe, if he seemed concerned enough, she would be able to talk to him. It didn't turn out quite like he'd hoped though.

"No," she answered, shaking her head. The lie seemed to upset her stomach, as she clapped a hand tightly over her mouth, moving in front of the toilet.

"Right," House said dubiously. He ran a hand over her rigid shoulders, until she sat back, wiping her hand over her mouth. There was something in his voice that told he something was up. But that was ridiculous; there was no way he could know. She had made Cuddy swear on pain of death that she wouldn't tell a soul. And though it was getting obvious that this was more than just an uneasy stomach, Cameron was fairly sure that her secret was safe. Fairly safe.

* * *

City Hall was a stout brick building,with the appearance of having seen over a hundred years, when really it had only just been built. It was surrounded by maple trees that had already started to lose their vibrant green color. On any other given day, House would not have given the place a second thought. But today…today he would've paid anything to watch it be torn to the ground. He might be able to admit that he was glad that Wilson was doing the right thing, and marrying the mother of his child, but it had been _his_ couch Wilson was on every time a marriage went sour. He knew that most of the time it had been his friend's fault. He was just a little worried thatWilson wouldn't be able to make this last.

Cameron, on the other hand, had complete faith in him. Almost as much as Cuddy did. She tried to calm House, who was gripping his cane a little too tight, and had popped one too many Vicodin before they left on the bike (Cameron driving, of course). But it was a lost cause. He was just going to have to suffer through the whole day.

Wilson and Cuddy were waiting for them in the marble-floored lobby. Cuddy was wearing an emerald green dress, one that Cameron had seen before around Christmastime. Her hair was loose around her face, curling perfectly. Rebecca was no where in sight, which Wilson explained was because they were actually able to find a babysitter. The four of them stood around awkwardly for a few minutes, before Wilson suggested that they go upstairs and get hitched. He was trying to be funny, to break the tension that had grown between four friends, but only came off sounding stupid. Cameron smiled, though more for his benefit than anything else. They took the elevator up, their eyes all trained on the glowing circles above the door, ticking off the floors.

The ceremony was quick and relatively painless. They exchanged their vows, Cuddy's voice cracking with tears. Wilson held on to her hand, helping her finish. Seated on a bench behind them, House was trying his best not to fall asleep. He knew that it was considered rude to be so bored at a wedding, but he couldn't help it. It all seemed so fake to him. He caught Cameron wiping at her eyes every few seconds, but he didn't say anything. _She_ had an excuse to be emotional.

Two hours later, they were stepping out into the sunshine. Cuddy and Wilson now sported matching wedding bands, and could not stop smiling at each other.

"Congratulations, you guys," Cameron said warmly. It was easy to tell how happy she was for both of them. The couple then turned to House, expecting something along the same lines from him.

"Right. What she said," he muttered. Wilson smiled appreciatively, knowing that was the best his friend could do.

"Look, we were just going to pick up Rebecca," Cuddy said. "But then were going to go get some lunch. Would you guys like to join us?" House opened his mouth to decline, but Cameron beat him to it.

"Of course we would."

"Meet you at the pond?"

"Sure."

Wilson and House exchanged a glance, the both of them realizing how much everything had changed.

"Come _on_," House heard Cameron saying. She was tugging on his arm, trying to get him on the bike. "We have to go home and get changed." She waited until House was straddling the bike behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist before saying, "I told you it wouldn't be that bad."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Right. That's what _you_ say."

Cameron rolled her eyes, and sped them off in the direction of the apartment.


	12. Predictable

_Ahhhhhh! Finally! I was really beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get this up. Sorry about the delay; I've been having troubles with my 'writing self-confidence,' so to speak. But here's this, and let me say sorry now, for the awful turn of events. Oh, and reviews would be nice (review whore).

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"I don't want to," House whined the next morning. Cameron was still curled into his side, which, lately for her, was a huge accomplishment. She had braced herself against his chest, waiting for the waves of nausea to hit her. Her fingers drummed out a gentle rhythm against his chest, as she tried to mentally prepare herself for the next week. They were flying out that afternoon to Florida to see House's mother. She felt only a little anxious – more nervous at seeing House's reaction to his mother's worsening health than getting to know his family. She knew, from the way House had delicately avoided talking about their trip until the night before, that he was scared. Scared of what he would find, and how it would change him. House would pretend to be strong and unaffected, but he was going to have to deal with the fact that his mom was very sick. Cameron just wasn't sure _how_ he was planning on dealing.

"It won't be-"

"_Don't._" House warned her. "Every time you say that, something goes wrong."

"Nothing went wrong yesterday," she pointed out. He took her chin in his hand, tilting her head back so he could see her face.

"How did you miss Wilson's inept ability to fall into the pond not only once, but three times, the second time managing to pull Cuddy in with him and ruining her dress?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Cameron smiled, remembering how Wilson had spent the whole of the afternoon and much of the evening fending off House's remarks and snickers.

"Ok, let me rephrase," Cameron said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Nothing went wrong for _you_." It may have been dark, but she could see the grin perfectly.

"That _was_ rather entertaining…" The grin disappeared when he remembered what had started this conversation. "I still don't want to go."

"Too late," Cameron said around a yawn. She sat up, stretching her arms out in front of her. "You've already bought the tickets and the hotel room. You really gonna waste all that money?" She lifted an eyebrow at him, but knew that he had already caved. He grumbled something about manipulation – or maybe it was marsupials – and slid out of bed onto unsteady legs. Cameron lay back against his pillows, enjoying the feeling of his warmth that still clung to the sheets. With an almost-non-existent smirk, she listened to the sounds of House's morning routine – stumble into the bathroom for a shower, limp a bit more gracefully back into the room to retrieve clothes, and, now with the aid of his cane, hobble into the kitchen to make breakfast – until the thick smell of brewing coffee set her stomach spinning. She barely made it to the safety of the toilet in time, but when she leaned over and removed the hand that had prevented her from spewing on House's carpet, nothing came out. She dry heaved a few times, gripping the toilet bowl. Then her stomached cramped up, causing her to fall back on the floor. She tried not to cry out in pain; she did not need House's concern right now. The cramping was achingly familiar, and, despite everything, she prayed once more that this was something else.

When Cameron managed to get back to her feet, she pulled House's robe off the hook near the shower and pulled it tight around her. It was more for comfort than anything else. She could still hear House in the kitchen, whistling some God-awful song they'd listened to on the radio the night before. She was actually surprised that he had heard the song at all, seeing as how he had been a bit preoccupied with her breasts at the time. Cameron shook her head slightly, and padded out into the living room, stopping to stand behind his armchair.

"People are going to notice," she said, trying to act nonchalant. They had mentioned it before, but she hadn't gotten a real response out of him.

"Notice what?" House asked, coming to lean against the doorway of the kitchen. The sight of him – clad in his favorite dark and dingy jeans as well as her favorite red band t-shirt – made Cameron's heart flutter.

"That we both simultaneously took the week off." Her fingers toyed with the worn leather of the chair as she worked hard to avoid his gaze. Even from the corner of her eye, though, she could see the nearly playful scowl on his face.

"So?"

"People are going to wonder." Cameron didn't entirely care if people knew about their relationship; though the initial warnings from the nursing staff would genuinely aggravate her, it was House that she was worried about. She knew how he was about the publicity of 'them', and she thought that he had planned on hiding it for as long as possible.

"Let them wonder, then." He shrugged his shoulders, as though it were nothing, and turned back into the kitchen. He didn't give her long to be puzzled, seconds later calling from the kitchen, "And get your ass in here. You're cereal's getting cold." Cameron closed her eyes, her tongue pressing against her upper lip. It amazed and frustrated her that he was able to go from possibly the most important conversation so far in their relationship to his pointless and sarcastic banter. Though she knew that she would need more than his answer to quell the anxiousness she felt about the whole thing, Cameron decided to let it go for the time being and shuffled into the kitchen.

"I might be mistaken, but I thought that was the point of cereal." House looked up at her from where he was leaning against the counter, a spoonful of Lucky Charms halfway to his mouth. She raised her eyebrows when he remained silent, and moved beside him. House finished his own bowl seconds after, and began picking the marshmallows out of hers. When a few well-formed glares didn't suppress him, she dejectedly threw her spoon in the sink, pushing the bowl at him. "I'm going to take a shower," she said as he took a bite of her cereal. "What time is the flight?"

"Three."

Cameron nodded, smiling at the bit of milk that was dripping down his chin, and turned out of the room.

Two hours later, House and Cameron were struggling out of the apartment with two huge suitcases in tow. House had casually mentioned to Cameron that she might want to pack her little black dress, just in case. She didn't say anything to the suggestion, but when he hobbled from the bedroom, she was pretty sure the smile on her face was of a rediculous size. And she pretended not to notice when he was having trouble controlling his suitcase out to the car.

"Did you give Emily my new cell number?" House asked, his voice strained as he lifted their bags into the trunk of her car. Cameron looked around at him from where she stood by the driver's seat.

"Why?"

"I've gotten about thirteen voice messages since I got it changed last Thursday." He raised his eyebrows and gave her the 'don't even think about lying' look.

"I might've…let it slip," she said, shrugging like it was nothing. His eyes narrowed, but she just smirked and got into the car. "And get your ass moving; we're gonna miss the flight."

* * *

By their standards, the flight was fairly uneventful. House broke two of the flight attendants into tears, and had a fit when they didn't have the scotch he wanted, but other than that, he was well behaved. They got themselves checked into the hotel about an hour ahead of schedule, so Cameron suggested they get some lunch before they went over to see House's mother. Emily had flown down to Florida the week before, and, after a twelve-minute 'debate,' House talked her into letting them get a hotel room. House thought it was completely unnecessary to burden his mother with two more houseguests. Both Cameron and Emily saw through the excuse.

"I want fish," House announced as they stepped out into the sunshine. Cameron squinted in the bright light before sliding on her sunglasses.

"No, you don't."

"I just said I did." Cameron stood with her hands on her hips, looking up and down the street the hotel was on.

"You only want fish because I spent the whole flight down here telling you how I would _not_be eating fish at all while we're here." She turned to face him, and House imagined he could see the playful glint in her eyes despite the glasses.

"Maybe."

Cameron rolled her eyes and took off down the street in the direction of a pizza parlor.

The little parlor seemed to be a renovated fire department, complete with the fire pole. The inside walls were painted a dark green, the ceilings rising high above them. It had a nice, comfortable feeling about it, the smell of baking pizza dough surrounding them.

"What can I get you?" a tall girl asked them after they had gotten a booth. Her black hair looked like it hadn't seen a shower in a few weeks.

"Medium. Pineapple and green peppers," Cameron said, eyeing House. They hadn't even looked at the menu. The girl walked away, leaving the two to their own devices.

"You're predictable," House said, leaning forward.

"And you're not?"

"I like to think so."

Cameron smiled, then tried her best to mask the wince as her stomach cramped up again. But, of course, House hadn't missed it.

"Are you alright?" he asked, clearly worried.

"Yeah…I'm…fine. I'm fine." A shaking hand clutched her stomach as she took deep breaths. "Just…hunger pains." House shot her a skeptical look, but she was spared any more questions by the arrival of their pizza. By that time, though, she had lost her appetite. Her insides were still clenched uncomfortably, but House had seemed to have let it go. At least until they got up to leave.

Cameron threw her napkin down on the table as she slid off the bench. She was reaching for her purse when she heard House's nervous mumblings behind her.

"What?" she asked, turning to face him. He was busy taking off his button-down shirt.

"Here," he stepped closer to her and tied the shirt around her waist. "Let's get you back to the room."

"What? Why?" She was starting to feel a little nauseous, but when he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door, she followed.

"You're bleeding."


	13. Striking Tragedy

_OK. First let me sorry about that cliffy. I know a lot of you weren't too happy with me for that. I usually try to avoid them, but I needed this one. I tried to make it up by getting this posted ASAP. And next, I'm sure a bunch of you are not going to like these turn of events. Again, I'm sorry. But it needs to be done. I've had this idea since I started this sequel, so there's not much I can say, but sorry if you don't like it. Otherwise, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please let me know what you think. Thanks to all of you who reviewed on the last chapter (the most reviews I've gotten at one time)!

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If he had to make an educated guess, House would be able to say exactly what was going on with his girlfriend.

That didn't mean he wasn't worried. When he had seen the spots of blood on the back of her jeans at the restaurant, he had been terrified. Cameron still hadn't said anything about the baby to him, and he was hesitant to tell her what he knew. Now, Cameron lay on the bed back at the hotel, a damp washcloth pressed against her forehead, as House drove towards his mother's condo. They had argued for nearly an hour – House wanted to stay with Cameron, but she was adamant that he go see his mom – before House grudgingly stalked out of the room, mumbling as he went. She was grateful that he cared so much about her, but truth was, she needed to be alone.

The bleeding was exactly what she had been dreading. Though she could tell herself that it was still something else, if only a coincidence that she would have bleeding _and_ cramps, rather than one or the other. She could tell herself that it was nothing to get herself worked up over, and that she'd save the worrying until after the doctor's appointment House had made for her later that evening.

Cameron didn't move at all in the forty-five minutes that House was gone. She glared at him as he stood over her, the words practically on her tongue before he said, "Save it. After Emily heard what happened…She was trying to get me out the door the whole time." The bed sank under his weight as he sat beside her. "Let's just get you to the hospital, first. Then you can go ahead with your lecture, OK?" He offered her his hand, and pulled her into a sitting position. The loss of blood had not been greatly significant, but as she got to her feet, she still felt weak. House guided her down to the rental car, supporting her as best he could while still supporting himself.

When the pulled up in front of the emergency entrance of the hospital, the very first thing House did was gripe about the pathetic state of the place. But, in response to Cameron's unimpressed glance, quickly added that it only looked that way after years at such a great establishment as PPTH. She would have been slightly unnerved if she hadn't caught his eyes roll. He left her in the car while he hurried inside, snapping at the nurses milling about to bring a wheelchair. Consequently, Cameron was offered three wheelchairs, as well as a gurney.

As much as she loved him, Cameron could not stand sitting with House in the waiting room of the OB/GYN. He was constantly asking if she was all right (she was), and nervously tapping his cane against the linoleum floor. She glared at him a few times, but finally gave up, letting him worry about her. She almost breathed a sigh of relief when the nurse came out and called her back. House squeezed her hand tightly as she got up and followed the stout lady down the hall.

It felt strange for her to be on the other side of the rubber glove. The resident gynecologist was a good-looking young man, and if it weren't for her current situation, she would have spent the whole exam awkwardly with her legs spread. Instead, she spent the entire exam with her legs spread, trying to hold back her fearful tears.

"You're pregnant?" he asked immediately as he sidled into the room. He was reading a file, his eyes lingering on a few sections.

"I hope so," she replied, running a shaking hand over her tummy.

"And you've been having severe cramping as well as…mild vaginal bleeding…" He mused over his symptoms as he slid onto the rolling metal stool beside the bed. He briefly checked between her legs, prodding inside of her with his clammy gloved fingers. "You're a doctor, aren't you, Ms. Cameron?" he asked, looking up as he peeled off the gloves. There was an almost sneering tone in his words that wrenched her stomach.

"Yes."

"So, surely, you must know what these symptoms lead to?" He lifted an eyebrow at her, daring her to answer.

"I have an idea…" Her voice wavered as she fought back tears, but she willed herself to continue, the pompous expression on the doctor's face her motivation. "…But I was hoping you could prove me wrong." The doctor pulled an ancient-looking ultrasound machine closer, and smeared the cool gel across her stomach.

"I wouldn't count on it."

Had she not been going through possibly the worst exam of her life, and had her emotions not been so screwy, Cameron might have found humor in how House-like this guy was. She could even detect the very same condescending tone she had heard House use with patients every day.

She kept her eyes diligently averted from the screen as the fuzzy gray image flicked onto the screen. She heard the doctor clicking his tongue as he moved the thick plastic wand slowly over her stomach. He scribbled a few things in her file, before shutting off the machine.

"In most cases, I'm sure you'd be thrilled to know you were right, but I'm sorry to say that your assumptions were correct." He unceremoniously tossed a box of tissues in her lap. "You've lost the baby."

So many emotions flooded Cameron, that she couldn't tell which was strongest. At that moment, she most wanted to beat the arrogant doctor over the head with House's cane. Now she understood how House could get so many complaints filed against him. The sarcasm was not nearly as charming in this context.

The doctor was going on about something; Cameron couldn't hear his words over the rush of blood in her ears. She had just gotten used to the idea of becoming a mother, and was preparing herself for telling House in the near future. But this… She had no idea how she was going to be able to cope with it on her own, and Cuddy alone wouldn't suffice. She would need House, but that would mean telling him about _his_ child. The one she'd been too afraid to tell him about. How he would react to having been kept from that particular secret, she didn't know, and didn't necessarily care to think about.

She ushered out the door of the exam room, and only came back into reality when she heard the mention of House's name.

"What?" she asked blankly, glancing back at the pompous one.

"Is that Doctor House?" he repeated, looking past her into the waiting room. "Doctor Gregory House?" He had an eager smile on his face, like that of a little boy about to meet Santa.

"Yeah, he's –"

"You know him?" She tried not to take offense at his incredulous tone. "Would you introduce us?"

"Actually –"

"Dr. House!" he called, pushing past her. House looked up, and Cameron could clearly see the pain on his face. His leg obviously was not a big fan of the florescent orange plastic chairs.

"Is she going to be OK?" he asked urgently, eyeing Cameron's reddened eyes.

"She'll be fine," the obnoxious doctor said, waving an arm out to the side. "But I was wondering –"

"If she's fine, then why are you still here, talking to me?" House snapped.

"But…I…" The doctor was suddenly less confident, stuttering before the older man. House fixed him with one of his glares before shoving him out of the way with his cane.

"Don't talk to me," he barked in the doctor's direction before taking Cameron in her arms. She had been happy to see the guy being emotionally abused by House, but when he gathered her into his arms, she remembered why her eyes were stinging with tears. And the comfort he was offering seemed so right, that she couldn't stop herself from sobbing into his shoulder. He ran a calloused hand across her back, whispering soothing nothings into her ear. He was not sure what to say, if he should tell her that he knew what was wrong. He wondered if he should tell her that they could try again, though this time with the intent of getting pregnant. He wondered a lot of things the few moments that he held her, but his thoughts didn't get any further than that. He decided then that if she wanted to pretend that they hadn't briefly had a child, then he would let her. Cameron had her ways of dealing with tragedy just like he did. Luckily, her ways were generally much less self-destructive than his.

* * *

"You must be Allison."

Margaret Baden beamed up at them from her spot in her bed. Her body was frail, and Cameron was mildly surprised that she was able to support herself enough to sit upright. She and House had gone back to the hotel, and, after a quick shower, she convinced him that she was fine and that she was up for dinner with his family. The idea did not seem to sit too well with him, but he agreed, knowing that to ignore the problem was part of her way of dealing with things.

"I'm so glad to meet you, finally," Cameron said sweetly, kneeling on the floor beside her. House and Emily stood in the doorway, watching as their mother made idle chitchat with Cameron.

"She doesn't look well," Emily said under her breath to her brother.

"She's not." House kept his gaze trained straight ahead, and refused to let any emotion play onto his face.

Emily glanced up at him, before clarifying. "I wasn't talking about Mom."

"I know you weren't."

Emily nearly asked what was wrong with Cameron, but stopped herself. If it had transformed her older brother into this subdued, contemplative man, whatever it was, it must've been something truly dreadful. She did not need in on their private matters.

"I'm not going to tell you," House mumbled.

"I wasn't going to ask," Emily insisted quietly.

"Yes you were. " He smirked at her, and turned down the hall in the direction of the kitchen, where their stepfather was cooking his specialty: boxed macaroni and cheese. Emily looked back towards the bed, where her mother was now stroking Cameron's hair fondly, no doubt telling her how glad she was that she was putting up with her son. Emily smiled; she had not seen her mother this happy for months. Apparently, the knowledge that her eldest child had found someone who cared about him was all that was needed for Margaret to break into a smile. But as Emily looked closer at Cameron, she saw something, beneath the blatantly fake smile. It was hard to distinguish exactly what she could read in those hazy blue eyes, but all Emily knew was that this young woman was suffering.

'If it's because of Greg,' she thought, 'I'll kill him.'


	14. Knowledge

_I don't really know what to make of this chapter. It's…well. It's what it is, I guess. Anyway, probably only one or two more chapter left (I'm so depressed…what else will I write?), depending on how ell I can draw it all out with out the story moving like molasses. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

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_

There were times in his life that Gregory House wished that he had never become a doctor.

Take, for instance, the time his father attacked Emily after House called the police on him. Had he not been a doctor, he may have been able to convince himself that Emily would be fine and that there would be no memory loss. But of course, he knew better. And then there was the recent situation with Cameron. If he didn't know better, he could have told himself that the bleeding meant nothing, that her baby was safe – that _their_ baby was safe. But his brain refused to buy it. These were the few times he actually cursed his knowledge.

It was two nights after Cameron's appointment with 'Dr. Pompous,' two nights after her first meeting with his mother that House was beginning to feel that anxious twinge in his stomach when he knew something was wrong, medically speaking. They had all been sitting in the back yard on a rickety old picnic table that House remembered his father building when he was younger. Margaret had wrapped a thick fleece blanket around her frail frame despite the fact that it was nearly ninety-five degrees outside. She and Cameron were talking about something; House strongly suspected it had something to do with his refusal to shave. Cameron looked tired, though he was pretty sure she had been sleeping well the last few nights. When she had come out of the exam room days earlier, he'd seen the tears she was trying to force back. It may have been rumored that he was a misanthropic bastard, but he could read Cameron's face like an open book. Only problem was that he didn't quite like the ending to this story. She hadn't mentioned that day since, and House was getting frustrated. If she continued to ignore it, he was determined to say something.

Michael was standing over the grill, concentrating on flipping the burgers so that they were all equally cooked on both sides. The top of his balding head was already thoroughly sunburned. Emily was talking – he wouldn't have been able to tell except that her lips were moving; he wasn't listening – when he noticed his mother was wincing every few seconds, pressing bony fingertips into her chest. From where he sat, he could see her chest rising and falling quickly with every breath.

"Mom," House said edgily, though he had _tried_ for concern. "Mom, are you alright?" Margaret looked up, smiling uneasily when she caught her son's worried stare.

"Fine, Greg," she replied shakily. "I'm fine." And when her hand dropped back to her lap and she went back to the conversation with Cameron, House believed her. The doctor in him was screaming that he check her out, because the apparent pain in her chest and sudden rapid breathing were warning signs for multiple fatal conditions. But for the first time, he was ignoring that particular instinct.

At least until she leaned forward, let out one violent cough, splattering blood over Cameron's jeans, before fainting face first in the grass.

* * *

It took them all a few seconds to register what had happened, but Cameron recovered first, reaching down to find a pulse, yelling over her shoulder at Michael to call an ambulance. She didn't need to glance up at House to know that he was panic-stricken. He wanted to get off his ass and help his mother who was dying before his eyes, but his legs would not move. Through the haze, he could hear the incessant wailing of the ambulance sirens. It was a sound that froze the very marrow of his bones. It always meant bad news, even from the doctors' standing.

House watched on, his fingers gripping his cane so tight that he had lost feeling in them, as the paramedics loaded his mother onto the stretcher. Cameron was shouting orders at them. House could tell how scared she was; she never got this aggressive unless she was terrified. Emily was shouting at him angrilybut he could not hear her. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Cameron went to the gate to see that the paramedics got Margaret safely in the ambulance, and watched as Emily and Michael climbed in after. She turned back to find that House had not moved, still staring at the spot where his mother had fallen. He looked so shattered to Cameron, that for a moment she was afraid that if she did anything to break him out of this trance, he might cry.

"Greg?" she asked tentatively. She rarely called him by his first name, but his last name – the one they used while shouting at each other in the conference room and while having sex on his leather couch – seem almost too harsh for this delicate moment.

"I wanted to be an astronomer," he said quietly, his eyes still locked on that patch of grass. Cameron drew her brows together, trying to figure out if she had heard him right.

"What?"

"When I was little, I wanted to be an astronomer." He brought a trembling hand up to his eyes, and Cameron watched as he swallowed thickly a few times before continuing. "If I weren't a doctor, I wouldn'thave this nervous flutter in the pit of my stomach right now."

"That's not —"

"It is," he interrupted. "It _is_ true. I might have otherwise been able to convince myself that she'd be fine." His hand dropped to his lap, and he turned his head to meet her questioning eyes. "She's not going to be fine, is she?" He'd said it as more of a statement, but Cameron could still hear the plea for some sort of reassurance behind it. She took a few steady steps forward, kneeling in the grass beside him.

"Do you want me to pull the empathetic doctor thing?" She knew that trying to make light of the situation was a futile business, but she did not particularly like that somber look that had overtaken House's face.

"Whatever you do, don't pull the empathetic doctor thing. Doctors that do that to me usually end up in need of their _own_ doctor." He made an attempt at a smile, but it only made Cameron's heart lurch with pity for him.

Cameron leaned up, pressing her lips gently to his temple. "Let's get to the hospital then," she whispered.

House shook his head. "No. She's unconscious now…and they won't catch the clot in time." He glanced up at Cameron's puzzled expression. He tilted his head to the side, proceeding to explain. "Classic signs of a pulmonary embolism. But she's unconscious now…I don't want to be around when it's over for her. I'm not good with dying people." Cameron felt tears sting her eyes as she reached out to clasp his hand.

"So what would you like to do now?" she asked him, fighting to keep her voice strong.

House looked at her thoughtfully as a ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

"Movie?"

* * *

When they stepped out into the chilly night air two hours later, House was unsurprised to find seven new voice messages on his phone. His mother had passed away at nine forty-seven that evening, of a blood clotin her lungs – completely unrelated to her cancer. Cameron had instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist, but he did not seem to need the comfort. They had gone back to the hotel, had a quick shower, and fallen asleep under the scratchy blankets. They didn't leave for Princeton for another three days, but, as House informed her as he pulled her in close before they drifted to sleep, he had no intention of leaving their hotel room for the remainder of the trip. 


	15. They Talk

_HEY! Sorry about the massive delay. I have been insanely busy with moving and such. Ok, I'm thinking…one more chapter? Actually, it'll probably end up just an epilogue. If that. Now, it was mentioned (by one person, but what are you gonna do?) that a third installment in the series would be good. Is anyone interested? I'm not going to attempt to write another if no one is going to read it (even though I have a hypothetical plot formed in my head. But shhhh. Don't tell.) As always, reviews arelove. Oh, and a warning: I wrote this in like twenty minutes at two in the morning, so I apologize beforehand for any grammar /general mistakes. OK, now that I've bored you all to death…On with the story!

* * *

_

And they didn't leave the room for the next three days.

Mike and Emily both tried calling House the day after his mother's death, and between the two of them, House amassed a collection of thirty-seven voice messages. Cameron got that same disapproving look he knew so well every time his cell phone rang from its place of exile under the mattress.

It was two weeks later now, the first days of August fast approaching. House had managed to get themselves a few extra days off from Cuddy, expertly using the excuse of needing some time to grieve.

Though Cuddy knew that House probably wouldn't be spending too much time grieving.

Sunday evening found House and Cameron in his living room, enjoying the last few hours of their weekend. It had been relaxing for both of them, and House wasn't complaining about the sex either. Cameron was curled up in the armchair, a magazine open in her lap. Across from her, on the couch, sat House, who was aimlessly surfing through TV channels.

Nothing had passed between them on the subject of the lost child. _Their_ child. He had expected Cameron to say something – anything – about it. Apparently, her method of dealing with tragedy included completely ignoring the problem. It was frustrating for House, because he was pretty sure that he was the same way. But he was determined to say something. They needed to talk about it, because he wanted to know that Cameron felt that they could talk about things like this.

Cameron's dark hair was dancing slightly in the breeze created by the overhead fan. Somewhere in the apartment, a clock was ticking, and the noise was seemingly growing louder. House's gaze focused on the television, noticing that he had apparently settled with a show devoted to…knitting? Who watched shows about knitting? What kind of corrupted society allowed networks to air knitting shows?

His eyes closed heavily, and he heard Cameron lazily turning a page in her magazine. The conversation was on the tip of his tongue. All he had to do was…

What if he said something stupid? Despite her total lack of emotion with the whole thing, House knew she had been suffering. It wouldn't come as too much of a surprise if he ended up saying something that only made her feel worse.

He really needed to give himself more credit.

It may be well known that Gregory House was a resolute bastard, but he was capable of having a heart-felt conversation.

Maybe.

OK. He was going to do it. No more procrastinating. No more consulting his conscience. He just had to _do_ it. Just go and –

"I knew."

Cameron looked up from the article she had been reading, something about the many uses of a banana. House shuddered.

"About what?" she asked, eyes widened in curiosity. House locked his eyes on his cane, which he was bouncing between his knees nervously.

"The baby. Our baby. I knew."

He waited for her sharp intake of breath before he dared a sideways glance, taking in the shock on Cameron's face. Her jaw hung open slightly, and even from where he sat, House could see the tears already forming behind her tightly shut eyelids.

"How…?"

"If you really didn't want me to know, I would've thought that you would have done a better job hiding the evidence." He tried to keep his tone light, instead of accusatory. Cameron brought a shaking hand to her lips as a few tears blazed a trail down her cheek. Suddenly, her eyes shot open, and she held him in an almost angry stare,

"If you knew…" She stopped, trying to back up her voice with some sort of strength. "If you knew, why didn't you say anything? Before now?"

House simply shrugged. "I figured you tell me when you were ready." A humorless laugh escaped his mouth before he could stifle it. "It would seem I'm not the only one with trust issues." He knew the moment the words were out that he should not have started this. Cameron did not need his self-deprecation.

Her shoulders tensed, and she reached up to wipe away a few more stray tears.

"That wasn't it at all," she said stiffly. House could hear the disbelief in her voice. Disbelief that he could possibly think so lowly of her. "I was afraid." House lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at her.

"It wasn't your first child. What could you be afraid of?"

"No. No, I was afraid because I was sure you'd…" She paused to allow an almost ashamed chuckle. "That you would leave me."

House's eyes widened, before his features firmly set into an unmistakable scowl.

"That's ridiculous," he said, surprised at the volume of his voice. Cameron turned her head away from him, her gaze fixed on the piano.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

That was what did it.

House could tell, from the way she was avoiding looking at him, and the way her lower lip trembled ever so slightly, that she thought she had done something wrong. And he knew, just like she did over the incident in October, that she would blame herself. Be it during an argument, or if he didn't accept one of her suggestions during the differential diagnosis, she would blame it on this; on her adamant refusal to mention a word to House.

He wouldn't let her do that to herself again.

With a massive amount of effort, House pushed his stiff body to his feet, and shuffled awkwardly towards Cameron. Her head titled down toward her lap, but she made no move to leave. He reached down to her, offering her his calloused hand, only praying that she didn't refuse. It was a few moments, but she did take it, allowing him to pull her up so that she was standing directly in front of him. Tossing the cane out of the way, he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tight against him.

"Do _not_," he said quietly, brushing his free hand across her tear-stained cheek, "think that I wouldn't support you."

It may have been the relief of finally having this particular stress lifted, or possibly just the reassuring comfort she was getting from House, but Cameron let go of her defenses, pressing her face against his warm chest, and just letting the tears fall. She had no idea how long they stood there like that, but she was acutely aware of the stubbly cheek grazing across her jaw as House leaned forward to say something in her ear.

"I want to try again."

Cameron pushed away from him, sure that he could not _possibly_ mean what she thought he meant. He was biting his lower lips nervously, trying to read her with those intensely blue eyes. Taking a hollow breath, he met her eyes, adding,

"No secrets this time."

Oh, God. He _was _talking about … that.

"You're serious?" she asked incredulously. She took a step back, tucking strands of hair behind her ears. "You can't be serious."

An almost hurt look flashed across his features. "Why not? I had a few months thinking I was going to be a dad." He dropped his gaze, anxiously fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. "You have no idea what that does to a guy."

Her heart wrenching at the wistful expression on his face, Cameron stepped back into his arms, leaning gently against him.

Smiling contentedly up at him, she whispered, "I can't believe you're going to be a daddy."

"Wilson couldn't either."

Ooops.

"What?" She pulled back so that she could see his eyes. House was relieved to see that she did not appear to be nearly angry enough for him to be worried.

"Don't worry," he said hastily. "He was drunk at the time, so I doubt he remembers anything."

Cameron's expression softened, and she leaned back into him. "Cuddy was happy for us too," she said though a smile. She could feel him shaking his head.

"You told Cuddy."

"Like I said, I'm –"

"Don't," House cut her off. His arms disentangled themselves from around her waist, his fingers sneaking under the hem of her tank top. "I think, now that we have had the proper amount of apologies, that we should get right on that baby-making thing." His stubble burned her flushed skin as he bent down to plant a soft kiss just below her ear.

"I love you," she whispered clearly as her fingers trailed through his hair.

"Baby, if this is love," he said huskily, already throwing her shirt behind the couch, but the rest of his thought was lost to the sudden lack of blood in his brain. But Cameron was pretty sure she got the gist.


	16. Forever

_Here it is, the final part to Seamless. I do have a third installment in the works, so hopefully I'll get the first chapter of that up soon. Thank all of you so much for your support throughout Cracks and now Seamless. Your reviews have definitely helped me push through those awful days of writer's block. And I hope the next fic is up to your standards. Now, on to the very-nearly-mushy and probably also corny goodness.

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Rebecca Rae Wilson was most definitely a daddy's girl._

At first, Wilson had been cautious around his daughter. He hadn't been around young children very often in his adult life, but he was quickly making up for lost time. Rebecca was now old enough to spend most of her days at the hospital daycare center, and Wilson made it apart of his daily routine to stop in for at least a half hour. The nurses on that floor would stop on their way through their rounds, watching the two of them through the glass walls with an expression of mixed happiness and jealousy.

Cuddy was glad to be back at work, relieved to see that Wilson hadn't completely run her beloved hospital into the ground. When she first saw House and Cameron sneaking into an exam room, she knew something was different. Cameron had called her in tears while they were in Florida, so she knew about the miscarriage, and she knew that Cameron had no intention of telling House. But she saw in House an uncharacteristic mischievous gleam, and she had a feeling that she knew what was going on. She decided that Rebecca would soon be getting her own playmate.

Foreman and Chase on the other hand, were quite sure of what was unfolding. Unfortunately for them, they had the misfortune to stumble into an occupied exam room, and, to their horror, finding House in the middle of ravishing their fellow duckling. House managed to throw a few snappy words at them, getting them to back out of the room with minimal snickering. He had quickly moved to continue from where they'd been so rudely interrupted, but for Cameron, the mood had been shredded, charred, and then thrown into a vat of bodily fluids.

To say the least, the atmosphere around the office after that was tense and awkward, despite House's constant attempts at lightening the mood – for Cameron's sake.

Exactly thirty-nine days after their decision to purposely try for a baby, Cameron emerged from the bathroom, a subtly playful smile on her face. House had been sitting on the couch, nursing his small glass of scotch, when she grabbed his wrist, urging him to follow. His heart was fluttering annoyingly in his chest; he had seen her going into the bathroom clutching a little pink box. He knew what had been in the box, and he was pretty sure he knew what was awaiting him.

Cameron stopped him just outside the bathroom, pushing him against the wall and placing her lips lightly on the exposed 'V' of skin where he had unbuttoned his shirt.

"I love you."

Her breath was hot on his skin as the words tumbled from her mouth. He thought about returning the sentiment, but Cameron snatched his wrist again, pushing him into the bathroom. He immediately recognized the little plastic stick that was resting on the edge of the sink. His heart started its fluttering again as he turned, catching Cameron's glowing smile.

"I love you."

It was his voice this time that delivered the chills up her spine. He didn't need to look at the tiny plastic fortune teller to know what it said. He took a step forward, resting his cane against the doorframe. Then, his face nuzzled against her warm neck, he let a hand wander under her shirt, his fingers splaying across her stomach.

"Both of you," he added, his breath raising goose bumps along her neck. "Forever."

* * *

FIN


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